Mein Teil
by CR0WE
Summary: It was supposed to be easy. Just a simple trip back to the past for Ron and Faith to stop Voldemort before he became too much of a problem. Too bad nothing is as simple as it seems. BTVSHP
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.  
**  
**This story takes place in the same universe as _Off Duty_, however one does not have to read that story to understand what is going on. For more information and other random thoughts on this story, please check out my profile page.

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**Mein Teil  
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Prologue

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A shirtless Ron Weasley sat cross-legged as he stared at a patch of dirt on the ground. More brown then green, the blades were bent and dry. It was the safest thing to look at for the time being. A foot to his right sat a similarly clothed Dawn who had just finished cutting deeply into her wrists, and was currently letting the blood drain into a bowl. She had barely flinched with the action, although Ron had noted in his peripheral vision that her hands were shaking slightly. Not a sight that he was comfortable watching, and the symbol carved into her chest was even more disturbing. He tried not to look at the blood that oozed from the mark and trickled down her body. The same distance to his left sat his shirtless brother, Bill. A slight breeze stirred Ron's hair as he watched Bill reach to take the bowl away from Dawn. Her hands were beginning to tremble more noticeably. Not needing to look up, he knew that Bill had dabbed his fingers in it. A foot across from Ron sat Faith, she was staring at the ground and baring her chest as well. 

Bill stood quietly and began to walk a circle around the symbol that they sat on, the one mirrored on Dawn's chest. With a diameter of six feet, it could easily allow the four of them to sit inside. The symbol had taken months to make and without it, the ritual would not be possible. It was etched into the ground and painted in blood, a combination of Dawn's, Faith's and his own. Bill retraced the symbol with just Dawn's contribution now, the fresh blood further darkening the marks on the ground. They had practiced the ritual for weeks upon weeks, making sure that everything was done correctly, that every mark was perfect and every syllable was said correctly. Without Willow, the chances of succeeding were slim. Ron knew that. Her and Bill had meticulously designed the spell. A spell that was originally meant to be chanted by her. Bill had learned on the chance that something might go wrong. Ron was glad they had taken the precaution. Something had gone terribly wrong.

She was captured a month ago, and once taken there was no chance for escape. There hadn't been a successful prison escape in four years. The prison camps were now too heavily guarded by vampires and demons. He wasn't expecting a miraculous breakout. Like the others, he wasn't expecting anything. One was sent there to work and to die. It was a flawless system for mass murder, one that had been honed, studied, and perfected. Willow, like Faith and himself, was one of the most wanted people in the entire world. He had seen his own face staring back defiantly and sullenly from the wanted posters and newspaper articles. She would have been questioned and killed immediately. They wouldn't have risked letting her live long enough or staying coherent enough to think of getting away. Any sort of upheaval would have been a direct challenge to their power base. Which meant that what was left of the resistance was short on time. Already living on seemingly borrowed time, it had been so disastrous that Ron hadn't been sure whether to laugh or cry. Too bad he couldn't seem to do either. Faith assured everyone that Red wouldn't talk. That she'd kill herself first before giving away any of their plans. Ron only hoped that the slayer was right.

He looked to the skyline for a second before taking a deep breath and turning his gaze back to the grass. Ron still didn't want to look. He'd been hardened over time, and this sudden aversion left him slightly baffled. In his lifetime he had seen many more horrific things. For six years they had lived in hell, and he had the memories to prove it. The two years following the decimation of the Wizarding world, the resistance had watched the Muggle governments fall to Voldemort and his army of demons. One by one they had succumbed, like a wound that just kept gaping and festering until the entire body had rotted. The Dark Lord had bargained with the demons, knowing one thing that they had always wanted. A never-ending flow of humans to torture and feed off of. Their desires were so in tune with Voldermort's line of thinking that it was as if the two had been built to be partners. It didn't take long for Voldemort to turn their dimension into a demon vacation paradise. Ron once overhead a demon remark that the next time he came back he was going to bring his whole family. That his daughter would freak out and probably want to buy the _pet_ that she'd been asking about for years. He didn't have to think too hard to figure out what kind of _pet_ the girl wanted. The Death Eaters had started a nice little tourist dimension. Apparently they were getting rich off of the endeavor, figured.

The next year the Muggles began to be exterminated or shipped to camps. And he didn't mean summer camps. These camps Muggles did not come home from after the summer; they didn't do much of anything after their trips. It was hard to be active when you were a corpse. Any wizard who spoke against the Dark Lord was sent as well, their wand snapped and their privileges revoked. All that was left was Voldemort's loyal Death Eaters, demons, apathetic wizards, and magical creatures who embraced the new world and quickly cashed in on these changes.

The fourth year after the fall, Voldemort gave a long speech about wizard-demon relations. He stressed projects to further cement the two worlds together. He spoke of the new government. He talked of the overwhelming delight he felt for the pain and suffering that the infidels in the camps underwent. That the new age of a pure world was beginning, and that he would ensure this purity would grow and strengthen. Ron and Hermione had watched this speech together in front of the Ministry of Magic along with hundreds of others. The two had clasped hands, and she'd held his so tightly he'd had bruises for days. The entire crowd had proudly had their dark marks on display. A sea of smiling faces and black cloaks that had just kept cheering and cheering. The thought still made him nauseous. Every human had to get the corrupting smear on their soul if they wanted a chance at life. Without one a person was more than fair game for the death camps. It had to be displayed at all times.

The Order had first tried to use a strong glamour to make the mark appear on their arms. They'd learned the hard way that it simply did not work. What had followed was months of arguing, theorizing, and testing. Ron shook his head as if trying to get rid of the thoughts; he did not want to dwell on it. He didn't like to think of the past ever anymore. The precautions that had to be taken sickened him. What the Order had done to survive sickened him. But the Order was different then the crowd of people he was with during Voldemort's wizard-demon relations speech. The last straw for him occurred when he saw the masses wear their mark without shame but with pride and excitement. All of them had cheered because they had agreed. Because they had the same goal as Voldemort. It was then that Ron realized that this world was already lost. It was during the fourth year of the Dark Lord's reign that Willow, Bill, and Hermione had begun to draft the spell. Hermione died soon after.

The fifth year into Voldemort's new world era there were only eight members left of the Order of the Phoenix. A fraction of their original number. Minerva McGonagall. Dawn Summers. Faith Lehane. Bill Weasley. Ronald Weasley. Dean Thomas. Kingsley Shacklebolt. And Willow Rosenberg. They spent their time running, hiding, and killing demons and Death Eaters in the shadows. They had gotten quicker, sneakier, and had created a style that was reminiscent of guerilla warfare. With so few though, it had been a difficult, uphill battle the entire way. However, they spent all the time they could developing a plan. Since then, they had only lost Willow.

Six years had passed since the fall. Six years of hell.

"I'm ready," Bill murmured forcing Ron to drop his train of thought and look up. He had completed drawing the designs and the circle, and his face was hard and set. "How are you holding up Dawn?"

"We need to start now, or I won't last the entire time," she replied. She had gotten very pale.

Bill nodded and turned to Ron, his movements purposeful, precise, and unhurried. It was what made him a perfect stand-in for Willow. Ron stared at Dawn's blood on his brother's hands and flinched when it contacted his chest. Although the blood was warm, the symbols that Bill drew felt cold on his skin. He felt a shiver crawl through his shoulders and down his spine. The design was a mirror of the symbol that they were sitting on. He glanced down at the image even though he already knew what it would look like. They had drawn the symbol on his chest before with animal blood. It was much easier to look at then.

Bill walked over to Faith and drew the same marks on her chest. She stared straight ahead, her mouth in a hard line. It seemed that she too didn't like the idea that this _ink _belonged to Dawn. Their eyes connected and she tried to give him a reassuring smile. Her crooked grin didn't have any effect on him though, and his mouth remained in its flat position. It was hard to smile back at someone who obviously hadn't put any heart into it.

Once Bill was finished with Faith, he walked over to his spot in the circle.

"Ma'at, God of justice and harmony in the universe." His voice cut through the silence. "Hear me now and answer your children."

Bill dipped his fingers into the bowl and painted a line on his forehead. The red horizontal slash stood out in sharp relief against his pale skin. Across from him, Dawn repeated the gesture with blood from her open wrist.

"With this sacrifice we will correct the ill of the universe."

Dawn smeared blood in a diagonal line across her naked chest. She seemed to be struggling with her balance.

"With this gate we make things right."

Dawn repeated the act below her breasts.

"Take these children as your servants."

On cue Ron and Faith each pressed a hand to the other's chest. The blood on Faith felt cold and slippery beneath his fingers and palm. Faith's hand felt unaccountably warm on his own chest. As they connected, the symbols began to expand and contort, like vines twisting and spreading. They traveled up Ron's arm to his shoulder and he took deep breaths to control the sudden increase in his heart rate. Invisible thorns pricked his skin, and blood oozed and trickled from the fresh wounds. It mingled with Dawn's. He bit back a scream as the vines enveloped his entire body. It was more painful then he'd thought it would be. He kept his gaze locked with Faith's, her eyes hard and her brow furrowed in concentration. In his peripheral vision he could see the vines creep up onto her face. Ron could feel them begin to crawl up his own neck, and was certain that the vines on him echoed the ones on her.

"Ma'at accept them into your womb and let them travel."

Bill submerged his hand in the bowl and it came out colored a deep red. As he raised it, he flung the warm blood onto the top of Ron's head. It landed in small drips, running down his forehead and over his nose. Ron tried once again not to think of where it had come from. His brother repeated the action with Faith. She didn't even start when it ran over her eyebrow and dangerously near an eye.

"Ma'at take them!"

Ron felt cold and tingly. His brother watched them with a determined gaze, nodding once as his eyes met Ron's. His brother, the last of the Weasleys, trusted him to make things right. The world was going black even though his eyes remained open. His sense of balance became uncertain, and the top of his head prickled and burned.

"Say hi to Harry for me," Dawn whispered weakly from his right. The words made his heart uncomfortably stutter. He could no longer see her.

The darkness shrouded all of his senses and the world went very quiet.

It was not unusual for the fifth year Gryffindor boys to wake up to screaming. Indeed, it had become almost a weakly occurrence. This time though was different. This time the shrieking and shouting was not coming from Harry Potter. It was coming from the bed next to him. It was coming from Ron Weasley.


	2. Rude Awakenings

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: **Originally, this started as a response to Challenge 1115, however during the course of mapping the story out, it changed drastically and no longer can be considered a response.

This story takes place in the same universe as _Off Duty_, however one does not have to read that story to understand what is going on. For more information and other random thoughts on this story, please check out my profile page.

**

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Mein Teil **

Chapter 1: Rude Awakenings

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It took a few seconds for Harry Potter to realize that the fans urging him to catch the snitch in his dream were not the source of the sudden noise filling his ears. Although the person was screaming, it was much too strained and painful to be from a happy member of the crowd. He looked around the Quidditch field, straining his eyes in search of the abrupt noise. Seeing nothing, he glanced at the filled stadium seating, but the mass of faces, although blurry, were not creating the sharp sound. Confused, he sat still on his broom, trying to decipher just where the noise could be originating from. In another few seconds he realized that it wasn't even coming from his dream. His hand went up to touch his scar, then dropped back to the handle of his broom. No, he was certain it wasn't from Voldemort either. The scar was feeling normal, well as normal as it could considering it had been tingling ever since Voldemort's return. He turned to the crowd again, noticing that everything looked in place. No dementors. No Death Eaters. No Voldemort. As strange as he thought it was, the only explanation he could fashion was that the screaming was coming from the room he shared with five other boys. He struggled briefly to wake up. 

Harry's eyes jerked open and he fumbled for a second trying to find his glasses. His suspicion had been right, the loud noise continued.

"Harry," Neville yelled as he pulled open the boy in question's curtains. With bed-head and matching pajamas, Neville's voice was barely audible over the yelling. "Wake up."

Harry was already pushing himself up and fumbling with his glasses, and Neville started in surprise to see an already awake Harry moving about.

"But if it's not you," the boy stammered as the screaming continued.

Harry looked around Neville to see Dean peaking out of his curtains. His hair was equally mussed.

"What the bloody'lls all that racket for!" Seamus yelled from his bed. Not bothering to draw back his curtain, the voice was muffled, tired, and irritated.

Looking around, Harry realized that there was still one person missing. His best friend.

Harry scrambled out of his covers and ran over to Ron's bed. The floor was cold and smooth on his bare feet, and it further dragged him from the drudges of sleep. He yanked open the thick curtains, pushing them away almost frantically to find Ron thrashing about wildly in his sleep. There were lines of tension in his face and shoulders, and in the dark it was near impossible to see if he was injured or not. Grabbing his shoulder, Harry tried to shake his friend awake but stopped as he realized that Ron was covered in something. The substance was dark, sticky, and vine like; and when Harry pulled his hand back he froze. In the dim light it shone like blood.

"Get McGonagall," he demanded to no one in particular. If Ron was hurt, if Ron was injured. If Voldemort had somehow gotten to him. . . . His hands were shaking slightly. "Now!"

It was Neville who ran out of the room, the footsteps sounding dull thumps on the hard flooring.

"What happened to 'em?" Harry hadn't even noticed Seamus standing beside him. Harry ignored him, and turned back to the red head.

"Ron, wake up!" he said shaking the sleeping boy violently. Although the sticky substance covered his hands, Harry didn't remove them. "Ron! Please! Snap out of it! Ron!"

Ron continued to yell, the voice only lessening when he needed to gasp for breath.

Harry sat halfway on the bed, clutching at Ron as he shouted and moaned. The noise was eerie in its continuality, and Harry held on even as Ron's movements were violent enough to cause him pain. Even more frightening however, was when Ron's voice sputtered out and died a few minutes later. Harry held his breath in an attempt to hear his friend. The boy was obviously either asleep or unconscious, Harry wasn't sure which, but he was still uneasy. Ron's body continued to convulse, only this time to the tune of haggard breathing.

"Ron," Harry said again, this time leaning forward. By this point he had stopped caring about the strange vine things. Or the fact that he was now covered as well with whatever substance they were made out of. He could feel drops on his face and knew that he must look a mess.

It was then that Professor McGonagall burst into the room with Neville at her heels. Dressed for the night, she wore a thick over-robe and had her hair pulled back in a severe braid. Despite her garb she looked alert and ready to handle whatever was happening. Harry was infinitely glad she had arrived. Pushing her way past Seamus and Dean, she stopped next to Harry. He couldn't turn toward her fully, as he was still trying to hold onto Ron but he felt her come up behind him. She inhaled sharply as she laid her eyes upon the red head.

"Harry, move," she said and waited for him to let go. Harry was reluctant to release his grip, but he did as he was told. "Petrificus Totalus."

Once the body bind was on Ron she muttered, "Mobilicorpus."

With the body floating, she began to rush it out of the door. It had all happened so quickly that Harry sat for a moment in shock, before jolting to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Harry called after her. His voice was unsurprisingly shaky.

"The infirmary," she sternly replied. "Stay in the dormitories."

Harry ran after her only to have the portrait door slam in his face.

"Damn it!" he yelled at the closed door. He resisted the urge to scream or cry.

"Harry, what's going on?" Turning, he found Hermione at the end of the stairs looking worried. Wearing her own pajamas, her hair had been hastily pulled back into a ponytail. Lavender and Pavarti were behind her, curiously watching his movements.

"We heard screaming," Lavender said. Her nightgown matched her name in color.

"Are you okay?" asked Parvarti. She was eyeing the dark stains.

"It's not me," he snarled louder then he meant to back. Unconsciously he began wiping his hands on his pants trying to get off the substance that looked, and smelled like blood. It was stupid of him though, the stuff was everywhere. Hermione watched him and bit her lip in worry, while the rest of the girls' attentions shifted to Neville, Dean, and Seamus who came running down the stairs. A barrage of questions followed.

"Is he going to be okay-"

"Did You-Know-Who do it?"

"Was that blood?"

"Did your scar hurt-"

"Quiet!" Harry answered back. His anger seemed to be growing exponentially. "I don't know anything more than you guys!"

They didn't stop though, and the questions kept coming. Harry decided to ignore them all as they gossiped and prattled behind him. He stared at the door instead and took deep breaths. Right now a month worth of detentions, even with Umbridge, seemed worth it to go to the infirmary. On instinct he rubbed the scar etched into his hand; '_I must not tell lies_,' it was still visible and slightly raised. He didn't even notice Hermione appear next to him until she asked the only question that was worth answering.

"Where's Ron?" she whispered as if afraid of the answer.

Harry looked into her wide eyes; they flickered down his body and took in every scratch and stain. Even though they were surrounded by talking people, the other noise seemed to fade away into a hazy background. She was smart and already knew what his reply would be.

"Professor McGonagall took him," he replied softly not wanting to shift the others focus back to him. Not that it would have mattered, the rest of the people on the stairs were so caught up in wild theories and notions that they wouldn't even notice an attack on Hogwarts.

Her face paled. "That was him, wasn't it? Screaming."

"Yeah."

"Is he hurt?"

"I don't know."

"Come on," she said grabbing his arm and pulling him through the crowd still on the stairs.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she led him back to his room.

"Do you honestly expect me to just sit here when one of my best friends could be hurt? Or worse." She dropped his hand and almost ran over to his trunk. "It's in here right?"

"What?"

"Your invisibility cloak," she replied opening his trunk. She began to carelessly toss the contents out.

"Yeah," he went to help her find it before she broke anything. "But McGonagall said to stay here."

Not that he really took what the professor said seriously.

"Bullocks," Hermione cursed. "How can she expect that we would leave him?"

"You do realize that we are risking weeks worth of detention or worse if Umbridge catches us?" For once he was being the practical voice, even if he fully agreed with her.

"Some things are more important," she huffed, "and you had better change."

Letting her paw through his things, her quickly took a towel to his face and arms and scrubbed at the drying substance. His skin feeling raw, he then slid on a new pair of pants and a shirt. Throwing the dirty clothes into his hamper, he walked back to where Hermoine was still searching. Finding the cloak, he tucked it underneath his arm and then proceeded to dig around for the marauder's map.

As he pulled out the well-used map he said, "We'll need this too."

With the important items in tow, the two of them ran back down the stairs. The others had moved into the common room where they could gather in a circle. Their voices were still raised in a combination of shock and excitement. It made Harry's stomach twist, and he saw a sick expression cross Hermione's face. They barely parted in time for Harry and Hermione to pass through. Hermione turned around as they reached the door.

"Back to bed," she demanded. Her voice was prissy and proper, as if she were doing a caricature of herself during first year. "The Professor's won't tell us anything until morning anyway."

"Yeah, right," Seamus scoffed. The boy seemed to be enjoying the upset.

"Seamus Finnigan!" Hermione huffed. "Do not make me take off points because you know that I will!"

"Well, if we have to go back to bed you guys do too," Lavender replied, a slightly snide tone entering her voice. "McGonagall didn't mean that you two were exempt."

"She's right," Neville added, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. "We're not suppose to leave."

Hermione's eyes blazed and Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"If any one of you rats on us," she whispered in a voice that lashed out and struck sharply. "Doesn't matter who, I will personally hex _each and everyone _of you at the most embarrassing and opportune moments. There will not be a second that you are safe. You will have to sleep, eat, bathe, snog, and pee with one eye open."

Silence.

Harry could visibly see each of them cower at what she just said. Hermione may get angry, but she was down right furious. And it was obvious that she meant exactly what she said. One by one, he noticed their expressions darken in both anger and resentment. It seemed that they all had decided that yes, she would do it.

Neville was the first to turn around, scratching the back of his head and walking up the stairs.

"I'll make sure your bed curtains are closed in case McGonagall checks up on us," he said to Harry.

"Me too," Pavarti hastily added, looking at Hermione.

Slowly, they each made a motion of goodbye and walked up the stairs.

"Man, Hermione," Harry looked to her. "You made me want to turn around and go back upstairs."

She weakly smiled at him, visibly stressed. "Come on, let's find Ron."

Harry pulled the marauders map out of his pocket and unfolded it quickly.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he muttered and watched the dots appear. Studying them rapidly, he found Ron right where he'd thought he would. "He's in the infirmary. It looks like Dumbledore, McGonagall and Pomfrey are with him."

"Thank goodness Umbridge isn't there right now, I don't think I could deal with that cow tonight," Hermione commented. "Let's go."

"Finch is over in the south wing with Mrs. Norris, Umbridge is in her bedroom and the way looks clear." Harry responded, clearing the map and folding the map back into his pocket.

As soon as they were into the hallway, Hermione took off at a run. Startled, Harry stood there uncertain. The invisibility cloak was partially folded up and still in his hand. Tucking it back under his arm he chased after her.

"Shouldn't we use the cloak?" he asked, trying to get her attention and be quiet.

"It'd take forever for the two of us to get there under that thing. Besides, you said the way is clear."

"It is, but-"

"We'll put it on when we get closer."

Harry tried not to show any reaction to her words. Hermione was usually more cautious than this. Then again, whatever was happening to Ron was bad. After all, she and the rest of her bunkmates had been woken by his screams all the way from the girls' dormitory. He could tell that she was worried sick, but so was he.

This was Ron. His best friend. Ron was not supposed to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Really, that was Harry's job. Harry was the one that had all the freaky things happen to him. Was this the way that Ron and Hermione felt every time he was hurt or missing or in danger? If it was, then he needed to give them more credit. It felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest. What if this was an attack on Ron from Voldemort? What if Voldemort had figured out a way to get to his friends? To get to those that he cared about. How many more would have to die because of him? His heart stuttered before continuing. No. He wouldn't let anyone else die like Cedric. And Ron. . . .well Ron was just going to have to be alright because otherwise he would never forgive himself for involving him.

Hermione suddenly turned and skidded to a halt directly in front of him. He nearly ran her down.

"Why are you stopping?" he asked as she said, "Pull out your cloak."

Looking around the dark hallways he realized that they were almost to the hospital wing.

Unfolding the cloak, he made sure that they put it on with the right side out. They had finally grown to the size that trying to fit more then one under the cloak was a challenge. Needing to move only added to the problem. Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist in an attempt to keep them close together. They then hunched down and walked slowly to make sure their feet were not visible. The movements had to be slow and cautious. Inch by inch they moved toward the hospital wing door.

It was closed. He hadn't thought of how they would get in without anyone noticing. His frustration grew, and he turned toward Hermione. Maybe she would have a good idea. As he leaned closer to her, the door opened and Headmaster Dumbledore looked out. Harry froze. It seemed to slip his mind earlier that the Headmaster could see through the cloak. It was a stupid mistake for him to make. And now that the Headmaster seemed to be avoiding him at all costs, their chances of staying seemed to be slipping away. This night was getting worse and worse.

Dumbledore smiled grimly.

"Stay hidden and sit against a wall. Only then can you stay," he whispered to them.

Harry felt a weight lift off his chest and Hermione nodded back. They quietly slipped underneath his arm and into the room. Circumventing beds and curtains, the two headed towards the wall where they would have the best view of the proceedings. Harry chewed on his lip as he took in the sight of Ron on the hospital bed. Unfortunately, he couldn't see much beyond that he was pale and barely moving.

"Was that Severus with the potions?" Pomfrey asked the old wizard without turning away from Ron's side. Her voice was lower then normal. A sign of worry from her that Harry had come to realize.

"Unfortunately no," he replied. "I think my mind might be playing tricks on me in my old age. How is Mr. Weasley?"

"He's calmed down and his breathing has returned to normal. It seems that the red substance covering his body has soaked into his skin. I'm not sure yet what effect this will have on him, if any at all."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding, and motioned for her to continue.

"There is a third degree burn on his left arm. I put some salve on it and wrapped it up. It'll heal, slowly and not without some pain, but his arm should be alright. I'm more worried about the material he was coated in and what it'll do to him. I haven't seen anything like it before."

Pomfrey was a professional and the words made Harry's blood go cold.

"It was much more prominent when I found him in his dorm. It looked like blood," Professor McGonagall scrunched her eyebrows. Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's arm. The nails dug painfully into his skin.

"I want a sample of it to analyze. Between Severus and I, we should be able to figure out its composition," Pomfrey frowned at the still form in the bed.

"I noticed it on his sheets when I picked him up," said Professor McGonagall.

"Dobby," Dumbledore commanded. The house-elf appeared a moment later with a sharp crack. He wore his usual mismatch of clothing, with multiple layers of scarves, hats, and socks. "Would you please go to the fifth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory and pick up Ron Weasley's bed sheets. Place them in my office."

"Yes, sir," Dobby rung one of his ears and disappeared with another loud noise.

Dumbledore gazed toward the entrance of the hospital wing and frowned. The door opened and much to Harry's dismay, the Hogwart's High Inquisitor, Dolores Umbridge walked in. She wore a pink dressing gown covered partially with a matching pink and white striped robe. It was freakily reminiscent of a frosted six year old girl's birthday cake.

"Is everything okay in here?" she asked in that soft and sickening voice of hers. "I heard a commotion and came to investigate the source."

She looked around the room and smiled when she noticed the red-headed figure on the bed. It was not a kind smile that graced her face. Harry's hate of the women churned in his stomach. He wanted nothing more then to stand up and scream at her. To tell her to stop looking so smug that one of his friends was hurt.

"Oh dear," she said in her sugar covered voice. "Is that one of the Weasley boys?"

McGonagall stiffened. "It is Ronald Weasley. And he should be fine."

"What ever happened to him?"

"We aren't sure Dolores," Dumbledore replied. "With O.W.L.s coming up, all of the fifth year students have been overly stressed. It must have caught up with him. He can tell us when he wakes up. There is no need for you to trouble yourself with this matter."

"I disagree. As the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts it is my job to ensure that Hogwarts upholds the ministry's standards and to take a personal hand in managing the students' educations," Professor McGonagall snorted softly, an act that Umbridge deliberately ignored. "If this boy was practicing unsafe material, then it is my job to lead the investigation and make sure that he is properly reprimanded for his actions."

"I am sure that whatever caused Mr. Weasley's injuries was an accident," the Headmaster said. "A misspoken incantation or a reaction to stress. We will find out the events that lead up to this tomorrow when he wakes up. He is relatively unharmed and this is hardly a matter that the High Inquisitor needs to worry herself about."

"Well, we shall see tomorrow after I speak with the boy," she turned to the healer. "I want you to notify me as soon as he wakes up. If that is all, then I suggest that we should all get back to bed."

Harry watched as she nodded to Headmaster Dumbledore and strolled out of the infirmary. Stupid git, acting like she owned the place. He resisted the urge to spit on her as she passed. Harry knew damn well that she wasn't worried about Ron's well-being at all. She just wanted an excuse to expel his friend, and himself as well if she could link him to the incident.

"I really do hate that women," McGonagall muttered after Umbridge had left the room. Harry couldn't agree more with her, although _hate_ wasn't nearly strong enough of a word.

"I'll make sure you have a chance to talk with the child before I tell her that he's awake," Pomfrey said turning back to Ron's side. She didn't contradict McGonagall's statement. "You don't really think it was a reaction to stress?"

"Of course not. But there's no need to let Dolores Umbridge think that it was anything else," he softly replied, his eyes still trained towards the door.

It opened again and Snape appeared. Harry stiffened at the sight. The man wasn't much better then Umbridge, and even at this time of night he looked slimy. Both were excellent at being pompous gits.

"And what exactly has Weasley been doing this time to end up in the hospital wing?" he sneered as he handed a vile to Pomfrey. She flicked her wand tilting Ron's head and upper body up from the bed. Uncorking the bottle, she poured it down his throat, gently rubbing it to make sure he swallowed all of the liquid. Harry briefly wondered what potion they were giving Ron.

Dumbledore ignored the undertone to his comment. "We are not sure of the circumstances that landed him in the infirmary but we shall ask him when he wakes up. Thank you for the potion Severus."

"Delighted, as always," Snape said as he watched Pomfrey lower Ron back onto the bed. He lay motionless there, his chest slowly rising and falling the only noticeable movement.

"Come. Let's continue this discussion in my office. Pomfrey, you are welcome to join us after you are certain that your patient's vitals have stabilized."

"I will be along in a few minutes." She said, her attention never quite leaving Ron, "There isn't much more I can do until he wakes up. The potion will make sure that his breathing remains stable and counteract the shock he's suffering from."

Snape left the infirmary first, his nose tilted toward the ceiling as he went. Behind him followed McGonagall, still dressed in her night attire. Dumbledore watched Pomfrey for a moment before speaking.

"Oh," Dumbledore said. "That reminds me, you might find some guests here checking on Mr. Weasley's health when you get back. If they are not in they way, you can allow them to stay. But of course, the decision is all yours. We'll be waiting in my office."

Pomfrey nodded her head showing that she heard him but remained silent. Harry really hoped that the healer would allow them to stay. The Headmaster exited last, allowing Pomfrey to work in comfort. She cast spell after spell only pausing to write down notes about his condition. Harry wasn't sure what spells she performed on his friend, but he could guess. Her tests continued for just over fifteen minutes until she put her wand away, evidently satisfied. Giving him one last potion, she put away supplies and instruments in the efficient manner of someone that knew her job. She left closing the door and shutting off the overhead lights.

Beside him in the dark, Hermione waited several moments before pulling off the cloak and making her way over to Ron's side. Her footsteps sounded loudly in the large and nearly empty room. Harry watched her as he folded the cloak up. He didn't think they'd need it again tonight. She gently sat down on the right side of her friend's bed, so lightly that most of her weight had to be in her legs. When Ron didn't stir, she carefully let herself relax.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" she quietly asked Harry. He hand moved up and haltingly brushed a hair from Ron's face.

He set the cloak on the floor and walked over to her. "I'm not sure. When he went to bed everything was fine."

Even in the moonlight, Harry could tell that Ron's face was paler then normal, making his freckles look like red marker dots. The memory of seeing Mr. Weasley after he was attacked by Voldemort's snake came to mind. The memory was a painful one, but he couldn't help but compare. Mr. Weasley had been just as pale as Ron. The man had almost died that night. The image of him lying there, bleeding and in pain made Harry's stomach churn. He could practically remember how the blood smelled, could taste it in the back of his throat. Harry felt like throwing up. He carefully swallowed and took in a mouthful of clear air. There had been blood on Ron too. The more he thought about it, the surer he became.

Reaching out, he pulled down the sheet to reveal Ron's chest and arms, stopping at his waist. The blood was gone. Of course it would be. Pomfrey wouldn't leave one of her patients in such a state. He couldn't even see any cuts, and only the bandage covering his left arm stood out against his bare skin. It must have been the burn that Pomfrey was talking about earlier.

"Harry?' Hermione asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. He realized that she had intertwined her fingers in Ron's hair sometime after he stopped paying attention to her. "What are you doing?"

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"The blood. It's gone," he replied as he stared at his unconscious friend's body. It felt like he should be dreaming. "The vines too."

"Harry? What are you talking about?" She glanced down at Ron's naked chest. "I don't see. . .um . . .anything unordinary. There is hardly a scratch on him. . . " he watched her eyes trace him in with scrutiny. Halfway through, her focus jumped to him. "Wait a minute, didn't Madam Pomfrey say something about a substance being absorbed into his skin?"

"That's what I'm talking about Hermione," he sighed, feeling his adrenaline beginning to ebb. "When I found him, he was covered in..." he struggled to define it, "He was covered in these vine…things. They were crawling all over his skin. And they…" Harry shook his head trying to dispel the memory, "But now there's not even a hint that they were even there in the first place."

"You said something about blood. . .the vines were made of blood?" she said the words very slowly. When Harry nodded, a look of horror covered her face and her hand threaded in Ron's hair briefly clenched. "This is very bad. Blood is used in some very dark rituals. What if. . . What if _he_ did something to Ron?"

Harry didn't need her to elaborate on who _he_ was. Voldemort.

"Did your scar hurt at all? Did you have another dream?" she asked, he voice going very still and quiet.

"No, everything was normal," he responded, wishing that he had something more to say. "I just woke up to him, screaming."

Hermione inhaled deeply.

While she remained close to Ron, Harry turned away and began to pace the infirmary. He needed to do something. Anything. The energy from the frustration inside of him was bubbling over and making his heart race. He didn't want to wait around to find out what happened to Ron. If it was a plot of Voldemort's he didn't even know where to start. It wasn't as if the Order would tell them anything anyway. Dumbledore had probably let them stay so that they wouldn't go and listen outside the Headmaster's office. But that wouldn't change anything. His fists curled into tight balls. This was his fault, he knew it. And they would ignore him and tell him to not worry about it. They would treat him like the five year old they thought he was. But how could he do anything else? He was putting his friends in danger. Something awful had happened to Ron.

Not again, no one was going to die because of him again.

"Harry. Stop pacing and sit down. This wasn't your fault." She seemed to be reading his mind. "No matter what we might think, we really don't even know what happened yet," she said, some of her usual composure finally returning. "It won't do us any good to broad over who is at fault . . . especially if you start blaming yourself." She paused, "Which it's not your fault by the way."

"But it is! If Voldemort really did attack him, then it's _my _fault! Why else would he come after Ron?" he argued back, feeling the bile rise to the back of his throat.

"Maybe because his family is full of light wizards?" she turned her attention back to the bed. "Look, just don't blame yourself. I don't blame you and Ron won't either."

Harry glared at the wall, her words striking an odd thought. "You don't know that." It would almost make him feel better if Ron got pissed.

"Yes I do. Even if you weren't a good friend, Ron and I would still be involved in the fight against You-Know-Who. We would still join the Order after Hogwarts. We would still become targets."

"How do you know?" He was being belligerent, and the words spilled out of him like hot acid.

"Harry? How can you believe otherwise? I'd like to think that you know us well enough by now to realize that we're in this fight. And that we'd be in it even if we had never met you. Like I said, Ron is from a family of light wizards and I'm a Muggle-born. Muggle-born, Harry. I highly doubt that I'd go on a crusade to kill myself, or that I'd just sit back and watch others do the deed."

"But I made you targets." The tone sounded whiny even to his own ears.

Hermione shrugged. "We would be targets without you."

Harry didn't respond, but just kept pacing. He was sick of arguing. The adrenaline had completely dissipated now, and he was left feeling tired and emotionally drained. All he wanted was Ron to be alright. He rubbed at his eyes and scratched the bridge of his nose. Maybe Hermione was right and it was useless to place blame when no one knew what had happened. Harry still didn't feel better. He sighed and his pacing slowed to a stop. He found a chair in the corner of the room and dragged it to the end of Ron's bed. Lumpy and uncomfortable, he shifted his weight and propped up his feet. Harry's eyes landed on Ron's sleeping form. How many times had Ron and Hermoine had a night vigil for him? His head ached. Hermione remained quiet, running her fingers through Ron's hair in what looked to be a soothing matter.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked, then expanded when she looked confused. "Playing with his hair."

"My mom used to do this when I was sick. It always made me feel better."

Had his own mother done such a thing? Harry couldn't remember if his parents ever had. He knew for certain though that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had never touched him unless it was necessary. And anything less than broken bones or blood did not fit the guidelines for touch in his relative's eyes.

For a long time he watched Hermione and Ron, his eyelids beginning to feel heavier and heavier. Before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep. This time there were no dreams about Quidditch, instead he dreamt of dark corridors and strangely familiar hallways. He was close to the end, so close. All he had to do was reach out and he would be there. But as he reached, there was a noise behind him. It jolted him and pulled him away from his goal and back into consciousness.

Harry groaned and opened his eyes. Looking around, he knew that it must be very early in the morning. A natural darkness still filled the room. It took him a moment to realize that he was in the infirmary. The events from last night slowly trickled into his head. His back was sore from falling asleep in the chair; it creaked painfully as he pulled himself up. But he didn't think that was what had woken him. He turned his attention to the bed. There were two figures in it. It looked like Hermione had decided to just climb in next to Ron. Her breathing was soft as she slept. He looked over to the figure next to her propped up on an elbow. Ron. He was awake and staring at Hermione.

"Ron?" Harry quietly asked, a gladness filling him that his best friend had wakened and was not dead.

The boy startled and turned to look at Harry. His eyes, bloodshot and strained, widened in obvious surprise and shock. The skin of his face seemed to blanch and whiten, and a sudden tension ran through his shoulders and arms. Harry hadn't meant to surprise Ron.

"Harry?" Ron's voice painfully cracked. It was still strained from the night before.

Harry smiled. Ron was awake. Ron was awake and talking, that was a good sign. Ron was going to be all right. He resisted the urge to jump up and down.

"Why is she covered with blood?"

What? Oh Merlin. . . .blood? He felt his throat constrict. "Blood?" The words tasted thick in his mouth.

"It won't stop," his fingers lightly grazed Hermione's cheek then jerked away. He rubbed them haphazardly on the sheets, his breathing slowly quickening. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his hand. He took a long breath. "My head hurts."

Harry looked over at Hermione. She lay asleep, only slightly adjusted because of Ron's movements. Not seeing any blood he turned his attention back to Ron, who had started to mumble something under his breath. The words were quick, quiet, and seemed to rise and fall in waves. Ron had apparently forgotten that Harry was there. He began to tremble in small jerks, Ron either ignoring them or not noticing them. Harry began to worry.

"Ron?" Hermione's soft voice was just audible. She had finally pulled herself out of sleep and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Pushing hair out of her face, she looked over at the shaking boy with worry in her eyes. She sat up and reached out to clasp his right hand. Ron became very still at her touch and pulled his hand away from her grasp. Slowly he turned his head towards her. "Are you alright?" Hermoine's brows drew together.

But it didn't seem as if he heard her. His eyes moved from his hands and fixated next on her mouth. He reached out his left hand to trace her lips. Hermione stayed frozen, not quite sure how she should respond. She grabbed his hand, for a second time, halting his trance like movements. Ron began to pull back once more but abruptly stopped as he looked at his bandaged left arm. Sitting up, he stared raptly at his wounded forearm. His eyes widened and he wrenched his arm away from her, cradling it to his chest. His breath became shallow and loud in the otherwise still room. Rocking back and forth he seemed to once again be lost in his own world.

By now Harry was perched at the end of his chair, anxiety and apprehension coursing through his veins. His attention turned back to Hermione who hesitantly held her arm out. She wanted to touch him again, but was holding back. Harry wasn't surprised; especially after the first two times she had grabbed his hand. Biting her lip, the bushy haired Gryffindor seemed to take the plunge. She wrapped her arms around Ron and pulled him close to her. He didn't fight her embrace and buried his head into her shoulder. She didn't seem to take her luck for granted, and immediately dragged him nearer. For minutes it was unnaturally quiet. Then perched on his chair, Harry strained his ears and heard the noise. Ron was crying.

Harry was scared. No, that wasn't even close to what he was feeling. He was terrified. Harry seriously debated moving closer, but was unsure of what Ron's reaction would be. His friend, whose emotions were usually so easy to read, was now a closed book to him. It was terrifying. He had never been good with emotions and for some reason Cho's face sprung to mind. He shook off the thought; this was his best friend, not some silly emotionally confused girl.

Slowly he stood up and sat on the other side of the bed, keeping his movements slow and calm. He reached forward and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. The skin beneath his hand was clammy and shaking slightly. It got Ron's attention, but not in the way Harry had hoped. Ron pulled out of Hermione's arms and turned around to face him. Up close, Harry could see that Ron was sweating profusely, and his eyes were now puffy from crying. His friend's look seemed hollow, far away, and it pierced Harry deeply. The fear Harry had felt was beginning to spiral out of control. Ron reached out and touched Harry's face, much like he had done earlier with Hermione.

Ron pulled away and looked down, almost as if he were ashamed.

"You're not here," he said hoarsely. "Neither of you are here."

With surprising strength, Ron shoved Harry to the end of the bed and clambered to his feet. He ran, the sharp noise of bare skin hitting the stone floor echoing in the large room. He threw his weight against the door, not stopping, but running through it as soon as it opened wide enough. Before either Harry or Hermione could respond, Ron was already gone.

Harry looked over at Hermione who still was staring at the door. She felt his gaze on her and turned to meet his eyes. He knew without asking that they had both come to the same conclusion.

Something was seriously wrong with Ron.


	3. Seriously Wrong

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, _The Order of the Phoenix_. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: **Originally, this started as a response to Challenge 1115, however during the course of mapping the story out, it changed drastically and no longer can be considered a response.

This story takes place in the same universe as _Off Duty_, although one does not have to read that story to understand what is going on. For more information and other random thoughts on this story, please check out my profile page.

**

* * *

Mein Teil **

Chapter 2: Seriously Wrong

* * *

Something was seriously wrong with Ron. His head hurt, no that was an understatement. It felt like someone was inside pounding on his skull with a troll hammer. A very big troll hammer. What the hell had happened to him? Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember the events from the previous night. Maybe there was fire whiskey involved? He imagined that being hung over on fire whisky felt something like this. Fred and George were always good at sneaking things into school; maybe he had gotten it from them. Then again, all this visualizing just made his head hurt more. Hell, thinking made his head hurt more.

Groaning, he cracked an eye open. The room was dark, lit only by the fading moonlight. Dawn must be close. He didn't see his typical Gryffindor curtains, so he knew he wasn't in his own bed. The curtains instead were a flimsy white fabric that hung bunched together and open. That would explain why the bed was lumpy and uncomfortable, because his own was just right. The question though was; why wouldn't he be in his own bed? If he thought hard enough he could distinctly remember crawling into his own bed last night. He closed his eye again, having it open only made his head hurt worse. Normally, he would have taken the time to figure out where he was. But the pounding between his ears didn't seem to want to cooperate with any type of observation. What he really wanted to do was go back to sleep, but the pain he knew would make it nearly impossible. So lying as still and quietly as possible seemed like the next best solution. Without any thinking, because the brief thoughts that ran though his head only added to the pain.

Instead, Ron decided to concentrate on his breathing. Hopefully the rhythmic in and out would help him relax, not to mention give him something trivial to keep his mind from wandering. After a few minutes of the exercise, he realized that something was off. If he ignored his own breathing and listened closely, he could hear another person sleeping. And that person sounded very close to him.

Despite the pain, curiosity beat it out and he opened up his eyes again. This time, he paid more attention to his surroundings. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Turning his head, he noticed that there was a shape to the right of him on the bed. A shape with a long mane of bushy hair. It looked familiar and he couldn't help feel that he should recognize the girl next to him. Propping himself up on his elbow, he brushed her hair out of her face.

Hermione? What was she doing in bed with him?

She looked sad.

He didn't. . . ._do_ anything. . . to make her sad. Did he?

He closed and rubbed his eyes, his head hadn't stopped hurting. Why couldn't he remember? Where the hell was he? Why was Hermione here, with him? Think. . .think. . .think. What happened last night? And why the _hell_ did it hurt so much to think? He had to push past the pain. Remember, damn it. When did he last see Hermione? Remember.

Gradually an image formed in his mind.

It was Hermione. . .her face stared up to him from his lap. She was sticky and dirty. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused as she stared at something just past him. A thin line of blood trickled from nose.

"Mione," Pain filled his voice.

She mouthed words at him, but he couldn't hear her as she choked down the blood. He leaned closer, trying to listen to what she was attempting to say. Pressing his forehead to hers, he felt her warm blood against his skin as it seeped out of a wound on her head.

Ron wrenched his eyes open. There was blood, so much blood. It poured out of a gash from her head. It matted her wild hair. It dripped out of her nose into a puddle on the white sheet. The air felt heavy as its stench assaulted him. A coppery stench like someone had stuffed his nose with old coins. He hated the smell of blood.

"Ron?" a voice startled him. He hadn't realized that there was someone else in the room. Turning towards the sound, he saw Harry sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. His hair ruffled from sleep and his glasses slightly tilted. He was wearing his pajamas.

Was he there before?

Why wasn't he helping Hermione?

"Harry?" even his throat pained him. Why did everything hurt? What was wrong with Hermione? "Why is she covered with blood?"

Harry replied, but Ron didn't hear him. All his thoughts were still focused on the bleeding girl next to him. "It won't stop."

And it didn't. It dribbled, dripped, and pooled; a deep red that just kept oozing and spilling. He turned towards her and wiped the blood off of her cheek. He didn't want to see it on her beautiful face. It was wrong. The whole image was wrong. He stared at the blood that now decorated his hand and rubbed it off on the sheets. It soaked into the cotton creating pink colored finger smudges. He was at a loss of what to do. Barely able to concentrate. Hardly able to keep his eyes open without seeing spots. He rolled onto his back hoping that Harry could take the matter into his own hands like he always did. He hurt too much to do anything and his stomach began to rumble and roll with nausea.

"My head hurts," he told his friend. His hand had somehow found its way back over his eyes. What was going on? What had happened? Hermione had looked fine just a minute ago. It couldn't be real. He felt sick, and cold. Very cold.

"Ron," his attention snapped back to the girl resting beside him. Hermione was sitting on the bed, her lips gently pressed together as she stared at him. She had grabbed his hand but he quickly pulled away from her; still not trusting his eyes. Hermione was okay. She was fine. It was just his imagination. She wasn't dead. He just had to look back at her. Slowly. If he just looked he'd see that she was fine.

Hermione's mouth moved but no sound came out, only dark trickles of blood. Ron felt his heart beat hammer and start. It was not real. Breathe. In. Out. It was not real. It was not real. He felt his arm shaking as he reached out to her. Gently, he ran a finger across her lips, wary of the blood that stained them. 'It was not real' became a silent mantra to him. He repeated the words to himself as he brought his hand away. Looking down at his fingers, he saw that they were clean. He gave a slight sigh of relief. There wasn't anything to be worried about. Hermione was okay. She was safe and sound.

Ron was jostled out of his brief reverie as Hermione grabbed his arm and stopped his actions. Startled, he jerked back and then stopped as he noticed his bandaged arm. The dressing was normal enough, a clean white that blended in with his already pale skin. But the sight made his head swim. Ron felt dirty. The feeling swelled in him as he stared longer at the spot. His stomach rolled. It was unclean . . . disgusting. It grinned at him through the white bandage. Its stench seeped out of him, filled the infirmary. It lazily hung in the air, thick and vulgar. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. They wouldn't accept him now. They couldn't. Not anymore. He was tainted. Couldn't they feel it? How could they even be in the same room as him? Why did he not notice it before? He could feel its evil skimming across his skin. He needed a shower. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't stay, not anymore.

Arms wrapped around him pulling him tight against another person. Had he moved? He couldn't remember, and he didn't care who the arms belonged to. Being embraced like this always made him feel safe. His mother used to do so when he was little and had nightmares; then it was Hermione who continued the tradition. Hermione who would hold him close and with a simple touch whisk his worries away. He buried his head into the person's shoulder. The arms felt warm and safe. His savior smelt good, like hazelnut and vanilla. Like his Hermione. Ron really wanted her to be okay.

His head still hurt.

The bed shifted and a new hand rested on his back. Ron pulled out of the arms and turned to see Harry.

Harry, his best friend and leader.

Harry, whose corpse he had wrestled to the ground.

Harry. . . Hermione. He couldn't save either of them.

"You're not here," he said hoarsely. "Neither of you are here."

Ron needed to leave and he needed to leave now. Pushing out of their embraces, he scurried out of bed and ran. He sprinted as fast as he could. Away from Harry and Hermione; away from the images that pounded and pulsed just behind his eyelids. Perhaps it was cowardly, but he didn't care. Screw being a Gryffindor at the moment. He needed to be alone. Harry and Hermione only confused him. Made him doubt everything he knew. He had never made a campfire with Harry. And he had never dodged killing curses while fleeing Death Eeaters with Hermione. Not to mention that he knew that he had never stood with them and watched the skies light up as London burned. He didn't want to see the images anymore.

His bare feet hurt and were chilled from running on the stone floors. The only sounds as he ran through the corridors were his echoing steps. It made him feel even more alone in the eerily quiet predawn hours. Panting hard, he finally came to a stop. Taking a minute or so to catch his breath, he shut his eyes and hunched over. Not quite sure where he ended up, Ron opened them and looked around. He blinked, realizing that he stood at the top of the Astronomy tower. He didn't even remember running up the stairs. Walking to the edge he took in the scenery around him. His steps didn't echo like they had before in the halls. It was quiet. The air was chilly, but felt good on his clammy sweating skin. There was a slight breeze that caused him to shiver and he hugged his arms close. He didn't try anything else to warm himself up and instead let his body simply absorb the chill. The shaking helped to keep him grounded in reality. He glanced down noticing for the first time that he was only wearing a pair of blue infirmary pants. They were thin and flimsy, the wind cutting through them as if they weren't even there. Probably not the best thing to wear when it was just slightly above freezing.

Closing his eyes he took a deep breath. The cool air burned the back of his throat and lungs. He wasn't sure what had happened last night, but obviously something had. Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the surer he was that he had just crawled into his bed. No, wait, first he had done his transfiguration homework, then he had crawled into bed.

Maybe he was just going crazy. Wasn't seeing things one of the first signs? He didn't think there was history in his family of insanity, but there was always a first time for everything. He felt a slight grin on his face. For once he might have actually done something completely independent from his brothers.

He snorted. It was funny, even if he was joking about his own sanity.

Being alone helped to clear his head. It was easier to block out unwanted thoughts when the others weren't with him. Then again, the quiet still bothered him. It made him think of the empty cities that should have been crawling with people. Cities full of buildings, shops, and houses-but lacking the one thing that made them move; life. He was torn between wanting to stay up there and leaving to find the others.

As if on cue, he heard a movement from behind that saved him from having to make any decisions. He sighed. His eyes opened but he couldn't get himself to turn around. Ron's body felt as if it had frozen in the early morning hours, making him nothing more than a breathing statue. He wasn't sure if he could look at them and just see his two friends standing there without the other thoughts intruding. And he knew it was them, there were no others it could possibly be.

"Please, stay there," he said softly, and he knew that they had no problems hearing him in the morning calm.

"I'm sorry," Hermione paused. "We're just worried about you."

"It's easier when you're not near me."

Hermione made a small noise, before Harry quietly shushed her.

"Ron," Harry began this time. "We don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I don't want to see it anymore."

How could he possibly explain? It felt as if the images had been burned into the back of his head.

"We need to get you back to Madam Pomfrey. She might be able to help you." Hermione was right, like always.

Ron nodded and slowly turned around. His feet felt like large pieces of lead. He was still sane enough to realize that something was wrong. And he supposed he was still smart enough to listen to those that he knew wanted to help him. He stared at his feet, knowing it would be easier to go with them if he didn't have to see his dead friends. . . Dead friends. . . Maybe he wasn't as sane as he thought.

"Can you lead me? I don't think I want to see it anymore," he held out his un-bandaged arm. There was a long pause and then footsteps neared him. A hand wound itself in his, but the person was out of his narrow sight range. "Just tell me when the stairs start and stop and go slow."

"Sure thing mate," Harry's voice came from in front of him. It must be Hermione who was by his side. Now that he thought about it, he realized that it did feel like her hand. It was smaller than Harry's, smoother, and the nails weren't bitten and broken like Harry's always seemed to be.

"Um," Hermione tentatively said. "I'm going to reach around your waist. It'll be easier to guide you that way. I just don't want to startle you."

That was understandable. Ron nodded, "Okay."

Her hand left his and gently wrapped around his waist. He tried to remain impassive as she pulled him close.

"Just start walking straight and I'll tell you when we reach the stairs. It's a good thing that it's Saturday so there won't be too many students out of bed yet."

It was slow going for Hermione and Ron. He was practically glued to her side as they walked. Ron focused on the sound of his footsteps and the stone beneath his feet to keep his mind from wandering. Harry lead the way, peering around for students and letting them know of upcoming obstacles. Luckily for them, they saw no one in the forty five minutes it took them to get back to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was in near hysteria when they got back.

"What do you think you're doing?" she yelled. "He is in no shape to leave his bed! Merlin only knows what could have happened while you were out wandering the halls!"

Ron winced at her voice, hiding his pain-ridden head in Hermione's shoulder. Why did she have to be so loud?

"We're sorry Madam Pomfrey," Hermione replied, not bothering to defend her or Harry.

"You had better be! Now get Mr. Weasley back into his bed at once!" Whether she wanted them to help him, he was unsure. She shoed them away and went to his side. Ron felt slightly bereft as Hermione unwillingly stepped back. Pulling back fresh blankets on the bed, she muttered to herself as she helped him into it. Ron couldn't hear what she was saying, but he didn't need to hear it to know that she was angry. After casting a few spells to determine whether he was currently stable, she huffed and turned back to Harry and Hermione who were still silently watching from the side.

"Please stay with him for a moment while I call the Headmaster to inform him that the patent is awake." Ron must have passed whatever her first tests were. He wondered if her tests included a 'gone crazy' one.

Pomfrey went to her office as Hermione walked up to the side of his bed. She watched him as she pressed her lips together. He could practically hear all of the thoughts going threw her head. He didn't think that any of them were good ones either. Ron tried very hard to not look at anybody else as he made himself comfortable by leaning his back up against the headboard. Unfortunately, he didn't do a very good job at it. Ron noticed immediately that Harry stayed a little off in the distance, choosing to not be as close as Hermione was. He fidgeted slightly as he stared at a spot on the wall. Harry remained quiet, obviously not knowing what to do or say. It seemed very un-Harry like, but Ron welcomed the change because at the moment he wasn't up for his friend's questions. Or theorizing with them as to what happened. He was sure that he would have to do it later with Dumbledore anyway. What was he going to say to the Headmaster? That he was going crazy? That he could see the future? Oh Merlin, he did not want that to be the future. He did not want to do this. Would it be too much to just tell Dumbledore to leave him alone? Probably. He ran his hands through his hair as he wracked his mind for anything to say that would make sense. His nerves felt frazzled and frayed.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe.

"Now you two seemed to have caused enough trouble for one morning." the healer said. Ron assumed she was coming out of her office. Her voice was terse. "It is best if you return to your dormitories. Perhaps you can get some sleep before breakfast. I'll send word when you can see Mr. Weasley again."

"How long?" Harry asked, his eyes had shifted from the wall to Pomfrey.

"I do not know child, but I will send word."

"Madam Pomfrey," Hermione began. "Can we have a word with you alone before we leave?"

She was tugged at her hair, looking rather anxiously between Madam Pomfrey and Ron. Ron ignored it.

"Do not bother trying to convince me to let you stay."

"It's not about that."

Pomfrey sighed, clearly not believing her. "Very well, come with me to my office."

Ron heard their footsteps leave, and then a welcoming silence as the door closed. He let out a long, shaky breath. It wasn't hard to figure out what they were going to talk about. Him.

He knew that they were worried. Hell, so was he. Things were just so confusing and he was still feeling just awful.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he became aware that he was not alone anymore. Ron groaned and opened his eyes. They felt as heavy as rocks, and his eyes beneath were watery and sore. Talking was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment, but he knew that he had to get it over with.

Dumbledore sat in a chair to his right. It seemed that the others were still talking with Pomfrey.

"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Now that Ron knew who he was talking to, he closed his eyes once more. "Excuse my language Headmaster, but I feel like shit."

Dumbledore chuckled. "There are some occasions where foul language is acceptable, and this, I do believe is one of them."

Ron smiled, or at least he tried to.

"I rather am hoping that you might be able to tell us what happened to you last night Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. Ron had expected him to be a bit more subtle about asking.

"I don't know," Ron sighed, knowing just how stupid his answer was going to sound. "I'm pretty sure that I did my transfiguration homework and then went to bed."

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments. The silence was uncomfortable. His eyes were still shut, but he could feel the Headmaster's gaze on him. It was as if the old wizard could see a part of him that he really wanted to remain hidden. Shuddering, he pulled all of his thoughts deep into his mind. It was a mess, and he tugged at all the loose threads and straying portions that seemed to be filling every crevasse inside him. He really didn't want someone else screwing up his mind anymore than it already was. Or seeing any of it. It was one thing to have to tell Dumbledore that he might be going crazy, but completely another to have him actually see it. Ron did not want to share. The memories, flits of fancy, crazy thoughts were personal, whether they did, or did not happen.

"Very curious," Dumbledore said from besides him. "Ah, my dear Poppy, how nice of you to join us. And Harry and Hermione as well."

"Headmaster," Hermione said.

"I will inform you two when you are able to visit Mr. Weasley," Pomfrey dismissed them. "Try to get some breakfast while you're up."

"Take care Ron," Hermione said as Harry muttered "We'll be back as soon as we can."

Then they were gone, Hermione casting an anxious glance back as she passed through the door.

"Unfortunately," the healer began, "I'm going to have to call Umbridge soon. So, we best figure out what to tell her now. And, there is always the chance that she will show up unannounced."

Ron really did not want to tell Umbridge anything. Telling the Headmaster and Pomfrey that he was going crazy would be hard enough. Umbridge would just smile and cart him off to St. Mungo's the first chance that she got.

"The simpler the explanation the better," Dumbledore replied. "We will stick to the hypothesis from last night. The stress from the O.W.L.'s was too much and transformed a charm he was practicing into something unpredictable. It happens all the time to over-stressed students. This time was no different." Dumbledore looked up. "Aw, her she comes now."

Ron opened his eyes and looked at the door. On cue, Umbridge entered the infirmary.

A large grin was plastered to her face that grew thinner as she surveyed the room.

"I thought I had asked you to inform me when the patient awoke," her voice was dripping in false sweetness. It made Ron's stomach sick.

"My apologizes, ma'am," the Pomfrey replied. "Headmaster Dumbledore had just stopped by to check Mr. Weasley. He awoke only a moment ago as I was examining his current condition. I was just on my way to call you."

"Have you questioned the boy yet?" she smiled widely showing her teeth.

"Of course not Dolores," Dumbledore said. "We knew that you had wanted to be present for the questioning."

"Good, good."

Ron moved his attention to his clasped hands in front of him. They were clenched tightly together, his knuckles turning a sharp white. It was a simple story. A simple lie, but he was having a hard time focusing. Unwanted thoughts just kept popping up in his head and his mouth seemed to be running off today on its own accord. He needed to concentrate. He did not need the instability.

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore asked. "Do you mind telling us what happened last night? You woke up most of Gryffindor tower."

Ron took a deep breath and lied.

"After I finished my transfiguration homework I got ready for bed but couldn't sleep. I had been having problems with getting the substantive charm right. And well, I must have said something wrong cause I woke up here with a very large headache." By the time he had finished, he was looking at Umbridge. "I'm sorry Professor, but I really don't feel good and would like nothing more than to go back to bed."

Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned back into the headboard. He was being rude, but this was Umbridge and he really didn't care. He answered her question, and managed not to freak out while doing it.

"My patient is quite right," Pomfrey said. "If you are done with your questioning, then let me get back to work and leave Mr. Weasley to his rest."

"Are you positive that was all that happened?" Umbridge continued to press.

"Yes," Ron muttered. "It's not like I'm stupid enough to cast dangerous spells on myself in bed."

Okay, so he was being rude again. But he was tired, and his body ached, and his mind was so close to just spinning and spinning again.

Umbridge cleared her throat. "Now Mr. Weasley, I know that you are unwell but that is no excuse for using that tone of voice with the High Inquisitor."

Merlin, the last thing he needed was detention.

"I'm sorry Professor," he replied rubbing his head with his hand. "My headache must be getting to me."

"If that is all that happened, then do you mind explaining why your left arm is bandaged up?" Damn her.

"I, ah. . .don't know," which was true, really. He didn't want to think about that. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the images that came to mind and the pain that came with them. He didn't want to see the long line that he had stood in, or remember how scared he had been grasping Hermione's hand.

"Now Dolores," Dumbledore intervened. Whether he noticed the fact that Ron was shaking he was unsure, but it was what Ron needed to be pulled out of his thoughts. "It is obvious that backfired charm rendered him unconscious."

"His arm was burned," Pomfrey said. "He is lucky that nothing more serious happened. And, on that note, I need to run tests to make sure that his arm is the only damaged part of his body. Everything looked fine last night, but I still need to check for delayed effects. Now, if you please Professor Umbridge, you can stay but I will ask you to remain quiet and out of the way."

Ron tried to pay more attention to the conversation they were having. After all, it involved him and his punishment.

Umbridge looked affronted for a moment. "That will be alright Pomfrey, I believe have enough information to write up my report."

Dumbledore smiled. "That is very ambitious of you to take on. Mr. Weasley is only the first of accidents that occur before O.W.L.s; there will be many more to come. I do wonder how you find all that time with your duties as Professor, and High Inquisitor? You are quite the talented woman to fit all this into your schedule."

Umbridge beamed slightly under Dumbledore's praise. Ron struggled not to snort. He had no idea how Dumbledore could spout that nonsense with a straight face. Then again, Dumbledore was always a great manipulator.

"We shall see Dumbledore," Umbridge smiled. "But perhaps you are right. I do have far more important duties to attend to. And I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey can keep medical tabs on the students for me instead."

Pomfrey frowned but Umbridge seemed to not notice. She was too caught up in her new way to spy on students.

"Yes, the more that I think about it, the more splendid the idea becomes. Pomfrey, I do expect a weekly report from you detailing all of the students who visit you and for what reason. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am off to the great hall for breakfast. Every Monday, I think Pomfrey, will be the due date for the report. I'll put something in writing and drop it off later in the day," Umbridge said as she walked out of the door.

"I guess she's never heard of doctor patient confidentiality," Ron muttered.

"You are quite right Ron," Dumbledore replied. "I apologize Poppy. I didn't think she would take it this far."

Poppy huffed. "Stupid woman. How can she honestly expect that I will spy on my patients for her? They're just children. But perhaps now she'll no longer stop by my office every time a student comes in to ask ridiculous questions about how their injury occurred. Anyway, I will find a way to tackle this new problem. Mr. Weasley now since it is only the Headmaster and I here; I believe it is time to try and figure out what happened to you last night. Please lay flat down so I can run some tests. You may talk with Dumbledore while I work, but I still expect you to follow my directions and answer my questions as well. But first, let me get a potion for your headache."

He gratefully swallowed the potion that she offered. Relief came almost immediately. It was good to be able to think again. . .on second thought, no it wasn't.

Ron laid down, briefly opening his eyes to readjust before closing them right away.

"Is that better?" Dumbledore inquired.

He made a noncommittal noise.

"So, the last thing you remember was doing your homework then going to bed?" Dumbledore asked. It was clear that he was just trying to get Ron talking again.

"Yeah." Too bad that Ron didn't want to talk.

"No pain before you went to sleep?"

"None," Ron began to feel tingly and knew that Pomfrey had to be casting a spell on him.

"How did you feel when you woke up this morning?"

"I was confused and my head hurt."

"What were you confused about?"

"I didn't know where I was, or how I got here."

"Did you have any strange occurrences, or did you notice anything that seemed out of place?"

"Um," he thought for a few moments, unsure of how to answer the question. "No."

"Do you remember having any dreams?"

Ron wanted to say no. He didn't have any dreams last night. But the more he thought about it, the more that that didn't seem right. He remained silent.

"Mr. Weasley? Do you need me to repeat the question?"

He sighed. "No."

"No as in I don't need to repeat the question or no as in I don't remember any dreams last night?"

"I'm not sure if I had any dreams," he answered tentatively.

"But there's something else?"

Throughout the exchange Pomfrey continued to do her work. However, he could tell that she had stopped to listen to his answer.

Ron paused. He didn't want to respond but he knew that silence wasn't an option. How could he tell them that he was losing his mind? That he was trying to convince himself that Harry and Hermione were alive. Or, that he can remember Dumbledore's funeral.

Ron laughed. It was high pitched and desperate. He didn't mean for it to come out, but he couldn't help it. Covering his eyes with his hand, he tried to control himself. It took a few moments for him to suppress the giggle that threatened to burst from his throat.

"Did you know that I was at your funeral?" He rambled, trying to hold in his laugh. "There were lots of people who spoke about how great you were and all of the things that they had lost now that you were gone. But I kept thinking that you wouldn't have wanted to be remembered like that. You'd have wanted people to talk about how you changed their lives. And be remembered for all the good things you had done for everyone everywhere, not just for the wizarding community, but the entire world. How we should live by your example. And they should have served sweets. You would have wanted us to eat all of the candy that you loved while we remembered you."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, as if he wasn't sure if Ron was done speaking. Pomfrey let out a long, shaky breathe.

"Yes," the Headmaster finally said. "I do think I would like sweets served at my funeral."

"I knew it, but Hermione said that I was just being silly."

"Is this what you dreamed about Ron?" Dumbledore asked.

"No. . . yes. . . Maybe? I don't know. It's just a memory," Ron replied.

"But, I assure you, I am still alive," Dumbledore said softly.

"Perhaps. Or maybe this is just a memory too."

"I assure you Ronald. This is not a memory," Dumbledore's voice was quiet, but firm.

Ron did not want to talk anymore.

Ron did not want to see the images anymore.

All Ron wanted to do was sleep.

"Can we be finished talking now?" he asked quietly.

"As long as we can have this conversation later, perhaps when you are feeling better," Dumbledore replied and waited for Ron to nod before continuing. "But, you will have to answer Poppy's questions and obey what she says for a little while longer."

Ron nodded again, eager to sleep.

The Headmaster left the two of them alone. Ron answered Madam Pomfrey's questions about where it hurt. She poked at his damaged left arm. Cast spells on him then asked him about the effects. She tested his reflexes. She asked him about what he ate yesterday and if he had any strange flares in his magic recently.

"I'm worried about you Mr. Weasley," Pomfrey sighed. "And not about your left arm. That should be healed up in a week. No, I'm worried about your mental state. It is very important that you tell the Headmaster any information that might help us figure out what happened to you. I have some dreamless sleep potion for you to take but it is only to be used at night when you can devote a solid eight hours or so of sleep. I will be giving you a dose each night before bed. I need you to take it easy during the day. You're not going to be able to have visitors for a few more days until I have more reassurance about your health. Now, with that said, is there anything that I can get for you?"

"No, I think I'm just going to sleep for a little bit," Ron replied. "But I'll probably want some breakfast when I wake up."

"That can be arranged," Pomfrey said. "Get some rest. If need be, I can move you to a more isolated part of the infirmary."

Ron heard her but did not answer. Instead, he let exhaustion over take him and drifted into sleep.

She sat perched in a window cell smoking. One of her long legs dangled over onto the side of the building while the other remained inside. A slight breeze moved her dark hair and the smoke from her cigarette filled the room. She had to be a bit cold sitting only in a pair of black underwear and tank top. Looking behind him, he could see her discarded black pants and tightly knit sweater on the floor.

Ron sniffled. He knew she heard him, but she remained still looking at the early morning sky. They were high up in an abandoned building that they had decided to crash in the night before. Out of the window was an excellent view of the silent city. It was almost beautiful, but Ron would take the chatter of people starting their day or the exhaust from automobiles over this false sense of calm.

"When I was younger I used to love the brief moments of quiet," as he spoke she continued to look out the window. "Yearn for them. It was never silent at my house with so many siblings. But now I hate it."

"Me too," she replied finally looking at him and blowing out smoke. "It makes me feel like I'm back in prison. God I hated that place. Nothing to fucking do there. But shit, I hate this place even more."

Ron snorted in clear agreement. He hated this place too.

"Do you think it'll work?" Ron asked after a moment. He didn't need to explain, she would know exactly what he was talking about.

She shrugged. "Like I've said before, Red always comes through for us."

"Even if she's dead?"

"This time shouldn't be any different."

He remained silent. There were so many things that could go wrong. His worry must have started to show on his face, or perhaps she just knew him too well. After all this time she could practically read his mind.

"Don't worry Freckles," she smiled. "We're heroes. We save the world and shit. Besides I don't think that we can fuck it up anymore then it is now."

Ron nodded, but her words couldn't stop him from thinking about all the things that could go seriously wrong.


	4. Another World

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, _The Order of the Phoenix_. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

A/N: Ugh, this chapter. After writing it over four times, I am finally happy with it. Actually, it took four times, some cover art and a thirty four chapter outline. So I guess it's worth noting that the story will be at least thirty four chapters long. Oh, and there is cover art but you will have to find me over at Twisting the Hellmouth, there will be a link on my profile page.

**

* * *

Mein Teil **

Chapter 3: Another World

* * *

_  
Faith stood in the middle of some kind of magic symbol. Her feet shifted uncomfortably as she stared at the way it marred the dirt. It was an ugly shade of red mixed with the dingy brown of the soil. The symbol was a circle with various lines that connected to each other throughout, creating designs that were intricately woven. It made her feel queasy, a feat difficult to accomplish. She'd seen magical symbols before, hundreds of them, but this one was different. Scrunching up her toes, she realized the red substance stained her feet, leaving the bottoms and tops of her toes shaded a muddy red. It smelt like blood._

_"Memorize it." Faith looked up to see Buffy standing outside of the symbol. Faith hadn't even noticed her. She glanced down. Buffy's feet were not nearly as dirty as hers._

_"B?" Faith asked. "What are you doing here?"_

_"It is the ending of everything." She smiled sadly, glancing down at the design thoughtfully. "It is your beginning."_

_"Ahhh. . . ." Faith looked back down at the marks. She'd always hated riddles._

_"It is your anchor."_

_Cocking an eyebrow, Faith studied the image harder. She wasn't sure how long she stared, but as time went on she could have sworn that it started to twitch. Faith firmly believed that symbols should not twitch._

_"Find him as fast as you can, he doesn't have any guidance," Buffy added as Faith looked up. The blonde slayer stood only a few feet in front of her, having approached when Faith wasn't watching. Reaching out her hand, Buffy laid it flat against Faith's chest. For the first time Faith realized that she was naked from the waist up. "I'm sorry Faith, but this is gonna to hurt."_

_Red vines spread out from Buffy's fingers, racing across Faith's body and engulfing her skin. They crawled and twisted and grew, their growth exponential as they covered her. Faith's mouth and nose filled with the copper tinged smell of spilt blood._

She jerked awake, hitting her knees on the seat in front of her and causing the occupant to turn around with a smarmy expression.

"Sorry," she muttered, clearly not meaning it.

The disgruntled man raised his eyebrows and frowned, but turned away nonetheless. He muttered under his breath about the ridiculous behavior of youth 'these days.' She automatically tuned him out.

Fucking stupid planes and their shitty leg room. Faith resisted the urge to kick her legs like a child. She should have just let Red have her way and transport them to London. But no, Faith wanted to make sure that Red would have enough energy to do all of the other crap that she needed to do. And since teleporting two people across the ocean took a bit out of Willow, Faith thought it would be smarter to take a plane. Plus, not that she'd tell the girl, but she was a _little_ bit nervous that they'd both end up in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean if Willow tried. Willow might be a freaking genius when it came to magic, but even geniuses had their off days. And though Faith knew she had super-human strength, she might have to admit that swimming an ocean was probably out of her league.

Speaking of Willow, she slept crammed into the middle seat, her body contorted in a position that would undoubtedly cause body aches later. A little bit of drool escaped her mouth along with some soft snores. It had been a hectic past five days, so it was good to see her get some nap time. Faith needed some zzz's herself, but unfortunately every time she drifted off she'd have the same dream. Stupid slayer dreams. She got the message already, had gotten it after the first five times. It was like a rerun that just kept going and going. The symbol will help you get sane. Go find him, the _him_ being Ron. And make sure to do so before he walks completely off the deep end. The first part was checked off on her to-do list and she was in the process of locating Ron. However, it seemed that the slayer dream wouldn't actually stop until it was fully completed. She felt so lucky.

Faith sighed and turned her attention to looking out the window. Not that she could see anything anyway since it was night and cloudy. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus in on the clouds, but the puffy forms refused to take shape. Scratching her head, she sighed and contemplated whether she could threaten the pilots to turn the plane around and bring her home to the good 'ole Hellmouth. At least in Cleveland she'd have four or so more years of peace and quiet until the shit hit the fan. But, no, she was about to dive straight into all of that shit. She knew she was prepared. She had her favorite sword stored away safely in her luggage, a to-do list about a mile long, and of course the proper motivation in the form of an impending apocalypse.

Unconsciously, she rubbed her bandaged left forearm. She couldn't escape her future. She had sold her soul to the devil in order to fight him. There was no turning back now, only forward. All she needed now was her partner in crime. Faith felt a frown on her face. Hopefully, he wouldn't go insane before she found him.

Beside her, Willow let out a snort. Faith knew that Willow was worried. Largely in part because she only knew the basics of what was going on. Faith would have preferred to tell her everything or have Red know nothing, but it was too late now and she needed Willow's help. So instead Willow was stuck in an uncomfortable in-between of knowing too much and too little. Faith had contemplated just telling the girl the entire plan and recruiting her in the fight against Voldemort. Unfortunately, the Scoobies still needed her. What good would it do if Willow wasn't there to advert the apocalypse that Faith knew would happen in about a year because she was running around the English country side? None, then the world would be screwed sooner then later. There was no need to burden the girl down with details of the end of the world. Willow still had a list of shit to do before the big war, Faith would only use her when necessary. Like now. They had to find Ron.

She had an idea of where he would be. That school, Hogwarts. She didn't think that he would have been moved to a hospital yet. If she had calculated her years right, currently the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore were busy bitching at each other about Voldie being back. Faith didn't think that Dumbledore would let Ron out of his sight just yet. Not with him being as close to Harry as he was and spouting information about the future. Dumbledore wouldn't risk Voldie or the Ministry getting their hands on Ron. At least, that's what Faith thought. She'd never met Big D, but from everything that she'd heard about the guy, she was pretty sure that was how he'd react. Or at least hoped, 'cause smuggling Freckles out of Hogwarts would be a lot easier then somewhere else. At least she knew her way around the castle.

A large part of Hogwarts was destroyed in the war. She'd been a part of one of the battles that had taken place there. Although the school was no longer in session, it was at that time being used as a fortress for the Order of the Phoenix. Since the ministry was nonexistent, the Order was the only force offering resistance in Britain to Voldemort. Their headquarters was still at number 12 Grimmauld Place, but Hogwarts had become a refugee camp about a few months after the demon army started invading. Willow and McGonagall had worked on reinforcing the wards, but it wasn't enough. The school still fell.

However, considering what her first days after time travel had been like, Faith wouldn't be surprised if she did find him at the hospital.

When Faith had first woken up, she was disorientated and had a large headache. She'd felt like shit, and was pretty sure she looked it too. There were two mini-slayers sitting next to the bed and one of them ran out of room as she had just come to. The first thought that ran through her head was about where she was and what was going on. She could have sworn that the slayer still in the room (Faith thought her name was Chelsea) had died three years before. Faith had rambled. Chelsea, during the rant had listened and tried to explain to Faith what had happened the night before. Then Willow had come in and Faith lost it.

In the end it had taken three slayers to hold her down. Faith had screamed at Willow about being a traitor. That she had ratted on them.

Willow had been wide-eyed and said that she had no idea what Faith was talking about. She'd asked her to explain.

The witch hadn't gotten any explanations from Faith other then a lot of curse words, name calling, and some threatening. After ten minutes of trying to reason with her, Willow had put her magically to sleep.

Faith had woken up a few hours later in a magically reinforced cell. Granted it was a nice prison with all the comforts of home, but it was still a cell no matter how she'd looked at it. And she had spent enough time in prison to recognize one quickly enough. Been there, done that. Bought the souvenir shot glass and everything. Granted prison had changed her for the better, but that didn't mean she'd ever wanted to be in a jail cell again. Needless to say, she had lost it. It was a good thing that it was a magically reinforced, because if it hadn't been, she would have completely destroyed it.

After another good hour of rampaging she had finally been able to 'talk' with Willow. It wasn't a civil conversation. Faith yelled. Willow had remained silent until Faith decided to shut her mouth and fume.

_"Faith," Willow said. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't seen you in months. I'm only here right now because I got a frantic call last night about you freaking out in your sleep. The girls were very worried when they couldn't get you to wake up. They called me and insisted that something mystical was behind this. At first, I thought that they were over-reacting, but then they brought the phone into your room and I could hear you screaming for myself, I knew I had to get there as soon as possible._

_You are seeped in some dark magic, other then that I can't be sure about what's wrong with you, although, I do have some guesses. You're rambling about events that have never happened. I think that something has messed with your mind. I need you to focus very hard. Do you remember anything last night that seemed out of the ordinary? Did you hear anything weird? Did you have any strange dreams? Is there anything that doesn't seem to belong in your thoughts? Anything that seems to stand out? Please Faith, I don't know what you think I've done but I promise that I am only here to help."_

Faith hadn't wanted to listen at first, but as Willow rambled on, she'd finally understood what was happening. Something had done this to her. Faith had sat down on the bed and focused. Found the slayer part of her and let it guide her into the depths of her mind. She wasn't sure how long she'd meditated, it could have been minutes or hours (she never got around to asking, it didn't seem important). She hadn't known exactly what she was looking for, but had relied on the demon inside to lead the way. And it sure had. It led her straight to a slayer dream that was too tangled up in all of her other thoughts for her to recognize it right away.

She'd screamed as she came out of the meditation, and that had shocked not only Willow but herself as well. She'd had no idea what the dream was about, but at least she'd had something to go on. From there, her and Willow had found a starting point. Something to focus on to help her figure out what the fuck happened.

If it hadn't been for Willow, Faith would not have ever returned to sanity. It was hard even now to block out the images of death that keep assaulting her. It was even harder for her to not attack any possible threat in sight. Her fingers flexed at the idea, and Faith forced them to relax.

She'd focused on that symbol, like B had said.

It was Willow's idea that the symbol might be the key in figuring out what was wrong in her mind. Willow had spent a day researching and found nothing. She would have looked longer, but Faith wouldn't let her. She kept insisting that they had to find _him_ as fast as possible.

Messing with the mind had been a sensitive subject for Willow. It always brought up thoughts of Tara. But Faith had insisted, coaxed, and practically terrorized Willow into doing it. Faith had said that her thoughts didn't make any sense. Faith might have not been in Sunny D for the battle with Glory but she knew what Red had done. She knew that Willow fixed Tara's mind, thus destroying Glory's mental stability. If Willow could do that, then she could help Faith.

Faith had told Willow that it was like all of her memories were scrambled and thrown out of order. That if Willow could organize them, then they would know what the fuck was going on. Reluctantly, Willow had agreed and devised a spell to do what Faith asked. Faith had suffered two more days of being crazy. Two agonizing days for Willow to be ready.

After it was done and Faith had realized what had happened to her, for a brief moment she'd wished she could have remained insane. It wasn't everyday that a person saw the end of the world, okay maybe it was for a slayer-but this was different. This apocalypse had succeeded.

Willow was having almost as hard as a time as Faith was. She had been in the slayer's mind. Red hadn't seen everything, but she had seen enough to realize that she was witnessing parts of the future, and that that future was not a happy one.

Willow had demanded to know what was going on, but Faith had told her to shut up a moment so she could think. Looking back at it, she probably should have been nicer to the girl. Red had just seen the deaths of many of her friends and the atrocities that Voldemort had committed. Willow had the right to freak out, especially since Faith had gone silent.

Faith hadn't told Willow much.

Yes, she'd had a vision about an apocalypse.

No, it wasn't a normal slayer dream but an actual vision (granted this was a lie but she wasn't about to tell Willow that she had traveled through time by using a spell that Willow herself had invented).

They needed to find Ron.

He was going to help prevent the apocalypse.

They had a few years to stop it.

No, Willow couldn't help directly because she was still needed with the Scooby gang (Willow was not happy about that one).

They were going to England, then Scotland.

Cause that's were Hogwarts is.

Then, fuck Faith didn't know.

Which pretty much summed up the events that led to them stuck on a very crappy flight to London. Thankfully, there was only about five hours left until they landed. Well, if she couldn't sleep, Faith figured she might as well watch a movie. She turned to the head rest in front of her and pressed a button on the monitor imbedded in it. Picking a movie to watch, one with mindless action and a hot actor, she settled herself in, ordered some whiskey from the stewardess, and anchored down for the remainder of the flight.

Five hours, twenty minutes later Faith stepped out of the Heathrow airport into the lovely drizzling English air. Fuck, she hated this country. Cold and wet with bad memories. Shaking her head, she shut out the thoughts that wanted to harass her. She was off to a bad start and was already dreading the ride through the Underground to central London. The deep levels of the future Underground were a catacomb filled with nocturnal demons. It had been both practical and death-wish stupid to use it. One could travel through it to easily get around London without running into any Death Eaters, but just as easily a person could find who-knew-what down in that darkness. Luckily the carts were still running now, so there wasn't much of a chance that they'd run into too much trouble. After all, even demons didn't like to get struck by a moving train.

"So," Willow said as she stared at the tube map. Her clothing was wrinkled and disheveled. "Do you even know where we are going?"

"Yeah, I'm five by five," she replied and pointed to the map. It was easy enough to read. "We're taking this blue one to that silver line and getting off at Charing Cross."

She finished by tapping her finger on the map. "Which is where the Leaky Cauldron is that will take us to Diagon Alley. We'll need to pick up a few supplies there. Then we're heading to Hogsmeade, and lastly Hogwarts."

Willow nodded but a small frown graced her features. "You know, we really should go visit Giles and talk to him about this since we are in London."

"No, not yet," Faith said, scratching her head as they made their way to the platform they needed to be on. "Look, it's complicated."

"And it's also an apocalypse, Giles needs to know with him being head of the Watcher's Council and all." Willow crossed her arms and glared. They had already been over this. Multiple times. Willow wanted them to go to the new Council's headquarters first. Faith understood why, but there was a chance that Giles could tell them they weren't allowed to go. It's wasn't as if that would stop her of course, but there was no need to alert the authorities first.

Unfortunately, having a slayer in the wizarding world was a bit like having the President of the US walking around Paris, or any other city. It just didn't happen without a bunch of legal shit and forms and alerting the entire government. Considering that Faith was still technically a criminal to the wizarding world, she didn't really want all of the fanfare. She already knew what Giles would say anyway;

_Faith, you cannot just wander into the wizarding community without some serious repercussions. You might no longer be a criminal under American Wizarding Law, but we have yet to appeal to the British Ministry. Besides we need more solid proof to bring to the ministry if you want to try to intervene with wizarding affairs. They tend to get very angry when the Council steps into their business without appropriate motive and only allow intrusion in apocalyptic situations. We have a long and complicated history with these people and I cannot risk just throwing it all down the drain._

She could even hear his stuffy accent in her ear as she imagined his half-lecture, half-reprimand. Yep, not a good idea. She'd talk to Giles after locating Ron and getting a game plan.

"Just drop it Willow," Faith stated. "We'll talk to Giles after we find and fix Ron."

Willow's frown remained. "Listen Faith, you're going to have to give me a little more information. All that you've really told me so far is that we are going to a secretive wizarding community who doesn't like outsiders, which would include us, in order to find someone that was in your freaky slayer vision. Which I still don't completely understand why you can't just tell me about and let me help you. And this kid, Ron is going to help you stop the upcoming apocalypse? How do you know you can even trust him? Why can't we talk to Giles first? Are we not allowed in this community? What if this is just a trap and we're walking right into evil's clutches? And how can you be so sure on the apocalypse time frame? We've never had a time frame before. Okay, I guess that's not exactly true since most apocalypses seem to happen in May but that's not the point. From what I saw of the images, they were so hectic that I have no idea how you can organize them in the first place. I just-"

"Willow," Faith grumbled, cutting of Willow's increasingly frazzled voice. "Just stop, okay. Trust me; I know what needs to be done. And yes, we can trust Ron. And yes, he is going to be a big help. And yes, I know for sure that we have a few good years before the world turns to shit. And no, we are not going to Giles first."

Willow pressed her lips together as if she wanted to say more. Faith could see her thoughts race through her head as she contemplated what she had heard. Willow's face paled a bit as her mind stopped on one.

"Faith," Willow pleaded. "I want to help. I really do, but I just don't understand what's going on. Why trust some guy you've never met before when I'll gladly be of service?"

"You are going to fucking help. What does it look like you're doing now? I already told you that I am going to need you later. But I don't freaking know when or how yet. I can't just take you with me."

"Why not? I'll come."

"Because you still have another apocalypse to stop. And if you're with me, then there's a chance that you might not be able to stop it. And then we'll all be dead so the next apocalypse won't mean shit."

"How can you be so sure?" Willow pressured.

"Because I am. I know we don't have the best relationship, but this is one thing that you are going to have to trust me on. I can be missed these next few years- you can't."

"What about others? If I can't help you, then why can't someone else?"

Faith paused. She might be able to steal away a few mini-slayers to help her with the Voldemort problem. But who the hell would she chose? And would the risk even be worth it? She shook her head. She'd think about it later after talking to Ron.

"I'll think about it," Faith replied. "That's all you're going to get for now."

Willow sighed in resignation, clearly still frustrated. "Then why don't you tell me more about the wizarding world."

Faith settled into her seat, taking one near the back of the car. She glanced around, noticing that the train was nearly empty. A few people sat scattered well away from their position, but still this was a conversation better done somewhere else.

"Look Red, now really isn't the time or place. As soon as we get to our room, we can talk there."

For the rest of the ride they remained silent, only communicating when switching lines. Well, until they were outside of the Leaky Cauldron. Faith watched Willow's expression turn from sulky to one of confusion and fascination.

"Faith," Willow said. "You do realize that there is a highly concentrated spot of magical energy in the area."

"Yeah, we're almost there," Faith sighed. "Just remember to act like an American Tourist, other then that, non-magical people are called Muggles and leave most of the talking to me. Oh, and try not to be surprised."  
Willow rolled her eyes. "You know, I am a witch and have been around magic before."

Faith pretended not to hear her and continued forward. She could do this. After all, she'd spent a lot of time around wizards while kicking Voldemort's ass. Or more like having her ass kicked… but still, she'd already gone through the meet and greet stage.

Pushing open the front door, she took a deep breath and stepped into The Leaky Cauldron. There were a quite a few people sitting at tables eating and sipping tea. Her heeled boots click on the wooden floor as she approached the main bar. Willow's was following silently behind her, no doubt looking around. The was a bald man who seemed to smile a lot. Which was good because it would make him much more approachable. Unfortunately, she didn't know his name or how to enter Diagon Alley, but that was not her fault. Since in the future the wizarding world was no longer hiding, and the majority of Muggles were dead, there really was no need to hide the entrance. Also … The Leaky Cauldron had been completely destroyed so the entrance was pretty much out in the open.

"Yo," she said to the bartender, raising her voice to catch his attention. "Can we get some butter beers please."

He smiled as he poured the beers. "Yanks?"

"Yep, no use in even trying to hide it."

"First time in London?" he asked.

"Yeah, just got here this morning," she said reaching in her pockets. "We haven't had time to stop at Gringotts yet, so I hope you take Muggle money."

"We do."

Faith took a sip of the warm liquid and handed the money to the bartender. "Keep the change."

She led a befuddled Willow to a table.

"It's not real beer, but it's damn good so drink up." Faith took another large gulp. She figured that she might as well introduce Willow to one of the good things in the wizarding world since the witch was going to be getting so much of the bad. "Gringotts is the largest wizarding bank in the world. We obviously need some cash, so that's our first stop. Then we need to find some clothes so we fit in a little better."

Willow listened as she drank. "I have to admit, this is really good. Can you get it in Cleveland?"

"You know, I'm not really sure. I bet we can convince Doggle's to get some." Doggle's was the one of the classy demon bars. Cleveland actually had many.

When finished, she collected the glasses and returned them to the counter.

"Can ya do me a favor," Faith continued without waiting for an answer. "We know that the entrance to Diagon Alley is here, but we don't actually know how to get there."

"First time and all," Willow piped in, the butter beer having improved her mood by leaps and bounds.

"So could'ya please?"

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Plenty'o tourists ask that same question. Name's Tom, by the way. Any idea as to where you're staying yet?" Tom asked, grabbing the dirty glasses off the counter and placing them behind the bar. Wiping his hands on a towel he motioned for the girls to follow him.

"Naw. After stopping at Gringotts and doing some shopping we're planning to head over to Hogsmeade. It'll be fun to see the only all wizard village in Britain."

"It's a good place. Tourists like it."

They stopped at a brick wall. It pretty much looked like every other wall in the building.

"Now make sure to watch closely," he took out his wand and tapped the bricks. Willow's eyebrows raised slightly as she looked at the wand. Faith had sort of forgot to tell her about those. Oops, Faith thought as the wall moved to reveal a door.

"Get that Wills?" Faith asked. "Cause you have the better memory."

"Yeah," Willow replied then turned to Tom. "Thanks for all of your help."

"Anytime. Enjoy your stay," he said as the girls stepped through the door.

As they walked in, Willow let out a small gasp. Faith mentally groaned. Really, she warned Willow so there was no excuse. The cobblestone roadways were filled with witches and wizards going about their daily tasks. Many sat at the numerous cafés under the brightly colored umbrellas, gossiping or sipping tea in the late morning sunlight. Willow enthusiastically stared in the window's of shops as they walked by, causing Faith to have to walk slower. Red kept pointing out little things that fascinated her.

"Sorry, but it is so cool. I mean a magical community this large in the center of London," Willow smiled as if she seemed to forget the shitty week.

Faith warned Willow as they walked that Gringotts was owned and operated by Goblins. This led to a bunch of questions that Faith had no idea how to answer. She had never really been very well informed on the subject. As they entered, she had to remind Willow several times that now was not the time to ask the goblins questions. They were as ugly as she remembered.

One good thing about being an official member of The Council was her own funds to be used for Slayer business. She and Buffy had agreed that wardrobe was included; after all, their clothes only lasted a few months before either being ripped, shredded, or damaged in some other way that was beyond the point of repair. She could access her account almost anywhere around the world. Including Gringotts. Getting the money was easy, explaining to Willow how it worked was not. As she listened to Willow lecture how illogical and confusing the wizarding monetary system was, Faith took in the changes. She had been to Diagon Alley before, but it was during the war. A large part of the community was destroyed beyond recognition. Gringotts was one of the buildings that was left completely whole. The Goblins had remained fiercely neutral.

Walking the streets made all of the memories that she'd been trying to repress for the past couple of days resurface. It looked so different, but eerily familiar. People walked around freely here, coming and going as they pleased. No one constantly looked over their shoulder or hurried from shop to shop. People were not displaying their dark marks in accordance to the Dark Lord's laws. There were no 'Wanted' posters with her smirking face flipping the bird at those who past by. Conversations were out in the open with happy loud voices. It should have made her feel relieved, but instead all she could think of was what could and would happen if nothing changed. Now, she'd never been one for sentimental bullshit, but even she had her moments. Stupid fucking apocalypse. She had a feeling that she would be thinking that a lot. This time though, things would be different. This time, they would win the war against Voldemort. He would never even get the chance to raise his demon army. But first things were first, and she needed to find Ron.

Faith knew that if she was going to try to sneak into Hogwarts, she couldn't go in what she was wearing now. Hell, even with some of the wizards wearing Muggle clothing, she still stood out like an eight foot man wearing a pink and white polka-dot dress. Perhaps her black leather pants, red collared shirt and black leather jacket was not the best outfit to wear. Willow fit in a little bit better with her long patchwork skirt and green peasant blouse. McGonagall had once told her that if any of her student's ever dressed like Faith, they would have to clean the bathrooms without magic… for a month. Faith really needed some black school robes to fit in, even if she was a bit too old to wear them. On top of that, she wasn't exactly sure where to get them. She knew though that they had to be around here somewhere.

"We need to find some clothes so we fit in better," Faith commented.

Willow raised her eyebrow, and eyed Faith's pants. "Well maybe you do, but I seem to fit in fine."

"Ha ha."

"Look, I'll just ask someone," Willow made her way over to a couple sitting outside at a tea shop. "Pardon me, but we're looking for a clothing store. We're visiting from America and don't know exactly know our way around."

"I suppose you'd want Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions then. She sells some of the finest robes in Diagon Alley," the women smiled, half her teeth colored a glittering gold that matched her hat. "She's just around the corner, the second shop on the right."

Faith watched as Willow muttered her thanks and made her way back.

Willow grinned as she led the way to the shop, obviously knowing exactly where she was going. The directions were simple enough and it only took a few minutes until they were there.

A witch smiled as they entered the shop, "How may I help you this afternoon?"

"We both need to purchase some robes," Faith replied, glancing at the racks upon racks of colored robes that lined the shop.

The witch, who was most likely Malkin, gave Faith a look over. Her mouth puckered subtly in distaste.

"That I can see," she remarked under her breathe.

"Care to say that louder?" Faith growled, immediately on the offensive. It was true her outfit wasn't wizardish, but it was still awesome.

Madam Malkin cleared her throat and ignored Faith's outburst.

"Now if you would each take a pedestal, I'll take your measurements."

Faith snorted at Madam Malkin's deliberate change in direction.

"It'll only take a few minutes and then I can see if there is anything in stock that will fit you. If not, then I'll alter something for you to pick up in a few hours," the seamstress said as the tape measure zipped around them. She asked several questions on style and shape before working in silence. Faith glanced at Willow to see her watching the instruments do their job. Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle. Willow had been like this in the future the first time she'd witnessed this type of magic too. She'd been fascinated at how similar yet different the two types of magic were. Once she'd tried to explain it to Faith, but that had been a hopeless cause. Faith might know the best way to kill twenty demons in five minutes, but spell theory was way over her head. All she ever remembered was the basics, the very basics.

A half an hour later they each had a new black robe. Faith wasn't sure if Willow would need one, but it was better safe then sorry. She wore her new robe right there, sliding it over her street clothes. Faith might as well try to fit in as early as possible. Their business in Diagon Alley finished, they needed to find a fireplace and Floo out. At least Flooing was one thing that she knew how to do. Remembering that The Leaky Cauldron had a fire place used for Flooing, she turned them back toward the pub.

Faith was lost in thought as she looked at the windows of the various shops when Willow spoke.

"Can we go into the wand shop? I'd love to see if one of these wands would work for me," Willow asked.

Faith turned to look at the shop in question. It was rather unremarkable, with only a wand on a purple cushion in the window, but something about the store screamed at her. Looking at the simple wooden sign that hung above the door, she felt her stomach drop and she clenched her fist. Ollivander's.

Her entire body tensed up reading that name.

Ollivander.

Shit.

The first time she meet him was not a experience that she would ever forget.

_Faith spat a stream of blood out of the corner of her mouth. Surrounded, by both Death Eaters and demons, she clutched her battle axe tightly in her hand. The fucker's didn't stand a chance. A man, actually she was pretty sure that he was part demon, stepped forward. Unlike the other Death Eaters in the group, he wore no mask. His white hair was wild as he gazed at her through his glasses. Unnerving as his stare was, she hardened her eyes and returned the look._

_"My, my," he practically awed. "A slayer. And not just any slayer, no. . .no. You're not like those children running around with swords; those children who call themselves chosen but have no idea what it means. What a find you are. There is power coursing through your veins. In every fiber of your being. I have used a lot of powerful creatures in my line of work, but I have never had the chance to examine a slayer. Your blood would fuel some of the most momentous experiments in wizarding history."_

"Hey, Faith," Willow interrupted her thoughts. "You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," she mumbled, pushing down the bitter taste at the back of her mouth.

"You sure, cause you just sort of zoned out for a second."

"Yeah I'm sure," Faith replied, trying not to sound defensive. "Willow, when you look at these people doing their type of magic, what do you see?"

Willow paused as if she wasn't expecting that question. "Um, I can sense the magic and am beginning to see the spells that when I really focus. Why do you ask?"

"Can you just keep on focusing on their magic like that?" What Faith really needed was _her_ Willow. She needed the witch who understood how the wizarding magic worked and knew how to get around it. How to fight it and manipulate it to fit their needs. "I need you to understand it. I mean really understand it. Like how you understand and control your Earth magic. Now, I don't know much about how this wizarding magic works, but I do know that all magic is tied together. You might not be able to use a wand but you should be able to hack into it or something like that."

"Demon magic is like that as well," Willow said, watching a magically rotating hat display. "While I might not be able to do it, I can still devise spells to counteract, fight or interact with it. You're saying that wizarding magic is the same way."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

"But how exactly do you know this?" Willow asked, confusion and frustration creeping into her voice.

"It doesn't matter. I just do."

That was one thing about magical theory that she did understand, and Willow had explained it to her in a moment of generosity.

"So, does that mean we can go into the wand shop?"

"No," Faith said. Undisguised venom laced her voice.

"Why not?" Willow knew something was wrong. She glanced at the slayer, but Faith's face gave away nothing.

"I'll explain later. We need to find Ron."

Willow sighed but dropped the subject and followed Faith the rest of the way. This was not the first time that Willow had taken Faith's word without question. It wasn't even the second or third, and Faith knew that eventually Willow would demand more answers. Hopefully that time would not come anytime soon.

Faith explained how to use the Floo Network as they walked, and once again Willow's curiosity overwhelmed her irritation. They were traveling to The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Faith told her that as long as Willow clearly pronounced the words, she'd be fine. And then had to reassure the girl that the flames would not hurt her.

Faith had always been unnaturally graceful when Flooing, and this time wasn't any different. Even with Willow sprawled in a soot covered heap, Faith easily stepped over her.

"You could have warned me to be careful of the landing," she moaned as Faith helped her up.

"Yeah but where would be the fun in that?"

The two made their way to the bar. A woman was at the counter, humming under her breath as rags magically cleaned cups. The place was pretty empty except for a few patrons who were clustered here and there.

Faith smiled at the witch as they approached her. The friendly approach always worked best, "We're looking for a room tonight."

"You're in luck then, we have plenty open," she said, pulling a book and quill from underneath the counter. "Now would you like two separate rooms or one room with two beds?"

"Two separate rooms next to each other if you got them," Faith replied, watching the witch's curvy handwriting loop over the page.

In no time at all, she found herself looking out the window of her new room, tops of neighboring building filling the skyline in odd not-quite-cookie-cutter shapes. Willow sat on the bed, fiddling absentmindedly with her skirt. It was time for Faith to do some explaining, and she was not looking forward to it. Willow had been patient all day and Faith could see that the girl was itching for some answers. Unfortunately, there was no way that she was going to be able to put Willow off any longer. Better to just get it over with and start.

"So," Faith began, turning to face the witch. "This is the wizarding world." Faith trailed off, trying to think of where to start. She quickly gave up. "Look, I don't really know what to say so just ask some questions."

"Finally," Willow sighed, her hands coming together in anticipation. "It's obvious that this is a well organized community, and most likely world wide from what I gather. So, why haven't I heard of them before?"

It was as good as a place to start as any.

"Because it's a big pain in the ass. Watchers go through a course in it and shit while training. They have to sign all these confidentiality papers and listen to months of shitty lectures about why it's kept secret and the consequences of telling other people."

"So, Giles knows?"

"Yeah Papa-bear knows," Faith exhaled. She could already see the hurt starting to form on Willow's face. Faith half covered her eyes with a hand. "Oh don't look like that. It's not like he intentionally meant to keep anything from us. The wizarding world is a very private society that has their own police force. In the years that Giles has spent doing the Watcher gig with Buffy there hasn't been any crap with the wizards that she'd need to worry about. You can't expect the man to tell us everything he knows. God, Buffy can hardly pay attention to the man for more then five minutes before she starts thinking about her shoes."

"She's not that bad," Willow defended half-heartedly.

Faith rolled her eyes.

"If the Council knows, and the wizarding ministry knows, then why are we pretending to fit in?" Willow inquired, her eyebrows coming together as she thought.

"Cause the Ministry of Magic doesn't want the Council's interference. There's a bunch of treaties and agreements and rules and regulations the two have to go through. It's like any other two governments. They are firm on their stance that they can govern their own people and don't need the slayer's help. And since they are human and technically out of the Council's jurisdiction, the agreement is that the slayer can only interfere in apocalyptic situations."

"Isn't this an apocalyptic situation?"

Faith sighed. That really was the million dollar question. "Um. . .well. . . It is, but the Ministry won't see it that way. It hasn't gotten out of hand yet, but it will."

"So, we'll get into trouble if they find out we're not one of them?"

"Yep, but don't worry cause we'll be fine."

"What exactly is the situation?"

Faith scratched her head, picking through the amount of information she should tell, "There's this evil wizard, goes by the name of Lord Voldemort, who believes that pure blooded wizards are better then everyone else. He's trying to rule the world like half of the other big bads out there. Genocide and all that shit. Many years ago he supposedly died, but like every other bad guy he didn't stay dead. But the Ministry of Magic has their heads up their asses and won't admit that he's back."

Willow was quiet as she thought about what Faith had said. Faith could see the gears in the girl's head work. She'd bet that Willow was trying to match memories she'd seen in Faith's mind with what she'd just been told. And although Faith wasn't sure what memories Willow had seen while fixing her mind, she did know that they weren't exactly happy.

"What makes this man so different," Willow thought out loud. "If The First can't create hell on Earth, how is he able to?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I just know that we have to stop him. You saw some of his army of demons while helping me, right? If we can stop him from raising them, then there is no way he can win. We'll kick his ass in no time."

Faith knew about the prophecy linking Harry and Voldemort. She knew about the horcruxes that the trio had spent a year and a half looking for. However, she had no freaking idea how something like that had gotten so fucked up. Voldemort taking over the wizarding world, yeah it had sucked ass but hadn't been the end of the world. The Watcher's Council should have been able to step in before it had gotten too out of hand. But his conquest of purifying wizards had somewhere turned into world domination and genocide. How Voldemort had gotten demon clans to listen and work with him was beyond her. Collaboration like that had never been seen before. Hell, even Giles had been blown away with the idea of something like that actually occurring. So really, she wasn't lying to Willow when she said that she has no fucking idea how the hell it happened.

"So that's the plan?" Willow crossed her arms, clearly aggravated by Faith's lack of cooperation. "To just stop him from getting his demon army?"

"Part of the plan anyways," Faith shrugged. "I haven't really figured out all the details yet. Waiting for Ron and all that."

Willow nodded.

"Willow," Faith leaned close to her. "When I get Ron here, he's going to be exactly like I was when I first woke up. Hell, he might even be worse since it's been longer. But he needs you. And I need you to promise that you won't go talking about anything that you see in his head. Like you won't go talking about anything that you see in mine."

Willow was quiet for a few moments as she considered Faith's words.

"I can try," And Faith knew that was the only answer she was going to get. "So, when do we go and get him?"

"Tonight, around six. But you'll stay here, I'm going alone."

Faith could see an argument forming on Willow's tongue but she seemed to stop herself, "If you must."

Faith nodded and pushed her attention back to the window. Sneaking into Hogwarts wasn't going to be easy, but it had to be done. And Faith knew she was up to the challenge. She just hoped that when she found Ron it wouldn't be too late.


	5. Familiar Faces

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, _The Order of the Phoenix_. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**

* * *

Mein Teil **

Chapter 4: Familiar Faces

* * *

Ron sat and stared out of the infirmary window. Outside he could see students walking with each other from class to class, their expressions barely readable from the tower where he sat. His lunch was untouched on the table next to him, the soup cold and congealing. It could sit there and grow mold for all he cared. He did not feel like eating any time soon. 

He had been confined to the hospital wing for almost a week. His alternating wardrobe of blue and white infirmary clothes became the way he told time. Today he wore white. Not even being allowed outside for meals, he'd sat in his 'prison' alone. Other students would wander in from day to day, with various aches and pains, but he was under strict orders from Dumbledore to converse with as few people as possible. The only exceptions were the Headmaster, Madam Pomfrey, and his family as well as Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore had asked him to use discretion when speaking to others about his condition- even if they were family or friends as close as family. Not that it mattered much what he said anyway, Ron preferred to spend his time in solitude.

Whenever he tried to do too much interacting with others, he ended up feeling very confused. At times, he would feel like himself with complete control of his thoughts and actions. But if he was not careful, he was swept up by thoughts and emotions that were foreign to him and yet familiar. Since he had been in confinement, Pomfrey had begun giving him dreamless sleep potions. The first night that he had slept there, he had woken the poor nurse with his screaming. She had roused him but it had taken hours for him to be coherent. When he had come back to himself she had been as white as a sheet. He would never forget the relief that flooded her eyes when he asked her what was going on. Pomfrey never told him what he had raved about to her that night. Some of his episodes he could remember in great detail but others where just periods of missing time. Pomfrey was worried about him, and it was for all the right reasons.

The door to the infirmary opened and he heard footsteps enter, more than one person from the sound of it. He didn't bother turning around, knowing that whoever had entered the hospital wing would be gossiping about seeing Ron in there, no doubt adding ridiculous details that made absolutely no sense. During his brief visits with Harry and Hermione, they'd try to lighten his spirits by telling him the tales going around school about why he was in the infirmary. From him being attacked by You-Know-Who in Gryffindor Tower to a rogue hippogriff maiming him in his sleep, they each were quite amusing at times. And a small part of him wished that he had been attacked by a rampant hippogriff; then at least the debate as to what had happened that night would have ended.

It seemed that no one quite knew what was wrong with him, and as soon as the bandages came off of his left arm tomorrow, there was talk of sending him to St. Mungo's. He wasn't sure which scared him more, the bandage coming off or going to the hospital where even more people would have access to his wonky mind. He preferred to keep that to himself.

"Honestly Professor," an aristocratic voice broke his thoughts. "You really did not have to come with me here."

"Wrong Draco," replied a second voice. "I was coming here anyway. And someone should accompany you. Besides, you have yet to tell me who has broken your nose."

"The spell seemed like the shoddy work of some sniveling Gryffindor. When I turned around they had already fled with their tail between their legs," Draco sneered.

"No doubt," it was Snape's oily voice that Ron had finally recognized.

It was that bloody traitor.

Here.

He took away Dumbledore. But more importantly he took away Hermione.

How dare he show his face at Hogwarts.

How dare either of them show their faces at Hogwarts.

Draco was just as sickening as that greasy git.

Ron clenched his fists and took a deep breathe. He heard his blood roar in his ears.

In the background Pomfrey was working on Draco's nose, clucking about being more careful.

Ron silently fumed as anger flooded his system.

Pomfrey finished in a matter of minutes, slipping her wand into her apron and telling Draco to wait as she and Snape went to speak in her office.

The door closed with a click as the two adults left. Ron sat in silence trying to control the sudden rage and felt Draco's eyes take notice of him.

"Look at what we have here," Draco drawled, and the noise made Ron nauseous, "A sickly, caged weasel. Someone should put it out of its own misery."

Ron's wand was on the dresser next to his hospital bed, but he didn't need it. Before he had even formulated an idea, instinct took over and he charged Draco, food tray in hand. The trays were old, and though they were light and flexible, they were sturdy enough to hold a large amount of food. The bowl of soup that had been resting on it only moments before clattered to the ground. Draco didn't even have time to react before the tray connected with a sharp crack to his face.

The blonde's head whipped around, the aggressive action so unexpected that he didn't try to stop it. The Gryffindor didn't wait for Draco to recover, but dropped the tray and drew back his fist. There was a sickening crunch as fist met flesh, and Ron watched Draco crumple in satisfaction. Blood dripped out of his nose, now broken for a second time that day. Still, the fury within Ron did not subside. He kicked away the forgotten food tray, and pulled Draco up as far as he could by his hair. Ron's muscles strained with the weight, and for some reason he felt that he should be much stronger than he was. Draco struggled half-heartedly, still obviously in shock about Ron's extremely violent actions. They might have been rivals, but rarely did the red head go to such excessive measures. Ron hit him again, harder this time, and felt his own face twist into something ugly.

Although Ron had not made any loud noises, their movements, plus Draco's half cry of surprise and pain, caused Snape to stick his head out of the office.

"What is going on in here?" Snape's furious voice cut across the room as he tried to gain control of the situation.

But Snape was not expecting Ron to meet him only a few steps out of the door. Then again, neither did Ron, who was too lost in his instincts to consider what he was doing. Every ounce of his determination was focused on Snape. While fighting with Draco was an everyday occurrence, attacking his potions professor was not. However, with his body already in action, that thought never crossed. Ron's body fell into familiar motions, and he could sense another 'episode' coming on. Before he relinquished control he briefly wondered if he would remember this incident or if it would become a blank like so many others.

Without even a flick of the wrist, Ron locked the office door as he charged the professor. The wandless magic flowed out of him naturally, and it didn't even occur to him that this might be a bit odd. Snape's eyes widened in surprise and Ron used the confusion to slam Snape up against the now locked door. Shoving his bandaged forearm under Snape's chin, he pinned his professor there. Ron was tall for a fifth year, but not as tall as Snape. Reaching only his professor's shoulder, he had to look up into the oil shined face. He pressed hard with his left arm as the other one clamped around the man's right forearm. Snape's wand was located in the holster on that arm and everything had happened so fast that he had yet to draw it. His shocked eyes quickly focused in on Ron's face. It was an eerily familiar scene for Ron as he stared into Snape's dark eyes. Ron's own eyes turning steely to match the hard gaze. The man's gasps, half-growls, and wheezes sounded like a symphony to Ron's ears. And despite the lack of breathe, Snape only gave off the appearance of being slightly annoyed.

The entire ruckus did not go unnoticed by Pomfrey. She rattled and cursed at the door as she fought with it. But Ron knew that she wouldn't be able to break his spell.

"Give me one reason," Ron growled. "One reason not to kill you right here."

He didn't let up so Snape could answer, and instead applied more pressure. Snape watched him with beady eyes, growing calmer as Ron let his temper go.

"How could you do it? Never mind, I don't want to hear any bloody excuses! It doesn't matter whose orders you were following, you killed him! You killed him to save that pompous piece of Malfoy shit," Ron took a moment to look at where Draco appeared unconscious. Blood had trickled down his face and onto his uniform. Ron turned his attention back to Snape. "It was a choice that you had no right to make. I hate you. For what you did to Dumbledore, for what you did to her! You took away everything that was important to me! Was it you who delivered the final blow or were you just there to watch? There was no way I'd let her go met someone like you alone. But I got there too late. Not anymore though, you are not going to take anyone else away from me again!"

Ron removed the arm restraining Snape only to draw it back into a fist. As he went in for a punch, Snape used the opportunity to lunge to his right. Instead of hitting Snape in the stomach, Ron was thrown off balance and collided with the door. The impact startled Pomfrey on the other side and she let out a small yelp. The force of his movements caused Ron to release his grip on Snape's right arm as he tried to regain his balance. It only took seconds before Snape's wand was in his hand.

Ron dropped to the floor as a jet of red sparks came from his professor's wand. It blew a small hole in the wood of the door that had been behind him and barely missed the nurse on the other side.

Ron didn't know what the spell was, but he was very happy that it had not hit him.

From his position on the ground he kicked up, his foot smashing into Snape's left knee. There was a crack and the potions professor collapsed to the floor.

Ron jumped onto his feet intending to stomp on Snape's face. However, Snape already had his wand up and pointed. He fired another red spell and this time Ron was not lucky enough to completely dodge it. The spell hit his left shoulder with the strength of a hammer. Where it struck, his flesh singed and burned and he realized almost offhandedly that the arm was useless until he got it healed.

Snape was still on the ground with his wand aimed at Ron. Ron stood with his fingers twitching, waiting for the professor's next move.

"That will be enough!" demanded a voice to Ron's left.

Snape's wand dropped just a bit and Ron turned to see the Headmaster.

Dumbledore stood in the entry way, his eyes lacking the merriment they usually possessed. Ron should have been scared, or at least have wanted to explain his actions, but Ron knew he wasn't thinking logically and instead fought to understand how Dumbledore could be both alive and dead. It made his head hurt. He silently stared back at the Headmaster.

It was Snape who spoke first, recovering himself quickly.

"Weasley! How dare you! Do you think that this little sick spell of yours gives you leeway to do whatever you please?" Snape rasped out still on the floor, the bruise on his neck had already formed. "I told you that he was too unstable to stay at Hogwarts!" Snape directed this lashing statement at Dumbledore, "He should be in the long term spell damage ward in St. Mungo's; not at a school where he can assault anyone he wishes!"

"I have my reasons Severus for keeping Mr. Weasley in my sights. Now if you please, lower your wand," the Headmaster replied sternly. Snape gritted his teeth but gave in to the request. "Ron, could you let Poppy out of her office so she can look at those injured."

"Why?"

"Who do-" Snape began, only to be silenced by Dumbledore's raised hand. Snape's mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

"Let me handle this," he firmly spoke and turned his full attention back to Ron. "Let Poppy take care of those who need help. It is her job."

"I just don't understand," Ron fumed as he continued to ignore the Headmaster's orders. Thoughts seemed to run into one ear, and then right out the other. His left hand gestured wildly as he spoke, a sharp contrast to the unmoving right one. "How could you even fathom that Draco's life was more important than your own? It doesn't make the least bit of sense. We needed you! We were at war and you practically rolled over and let them kill you! What good is a spineless, junior Death Eater? Or a double agent who sucked at his job? Do you have any idea how much difference it would have made if you had just let Voldemort kill Draco for his failures instead of personally paying the price? I never thought you were a stupid man Dumbledore- off your rocker, yeah maybe, but not stupid. Despite what you might think, people are not all created equal. They cannot always be saved and someone like Draco is not worth dying for!"

The two men watched Ron in silence, his voice becoming tinted with hysteria before finally dying with a croak. His shoulders heaved and unexplainably he felt torn between nausea and tears. Even Poppy had stopped trying to get out of the office to listen to his words.

"You are wrong," Dumbledore finally said, his voice calm and steady. "Everyone deserves a chance at salvation, and life should not be spoken of so crassly. People change, and given the chance, they might even surprise you."

Ron snorted at the optimistic words and turned his attention back to his potions master. He had hobbled up sometime during Ron's tirade and was standing on his left leg, bracing himself against the wall. Snape was staring at him, eyes narrowed.

"Quite a statement for a Gryffindor," he sneered. "Dumbledore, his mind has obviously been addled. He needs to be in a bed next to the Longbottoms."

"Don't you dare speak of Neville's parents like that!" Ron yelled back, his rage once more beginning to roar in his ears.

"Please Severus, you are not helping," Dumbledore chided. "And Ron, try to calm yourself so we can talk."

Taking a few deep breaths, Ron made is way over to his bed. Sitting down, he continued to glare at the Headmaster. He let his teeth grind together in an attempt to expel some of his negative energy. It didn't help. Instead, he leaned over and grabbed at his wand, feeling much calmer once he had it in hand.

"And let Poppy out of her office," Dumbledore reiterated.

Releasing the spell, Ron watched as Poppy decided to tend to Draco first, and made her way to his groaning side. She didn't remark on her confinement or on the condition of those in the infirmary, but eyed him with a combination of concern and bewilderment.

"Come," Dumbledore said, motioning to Ron. "We will continue this discussion in my office, alone. That is, if you feel you are well enough to go."

"But sir-" Snape replied, clearly still agitated.

"No, Severus. You have already made you point in this matter quite clear."

Ron shook his head. He was not going anywhere. Looking down at his left arm, he noticed that some of Draco's blood had stained the bandages.

"Did you hear me Ronald?" Dumbledore asked coming to his side.

"I did, but I'm not going anywhere," his voice was steady. "I already know what you will say and what you will ask. And my answers all remain the same. No."

Dumbledore wanted permission to study Ron's mind through legitimacy. They had discussed the same thing days ago. He'd pushed, prodded, but hadn't ordered or forced him in any way; which Ron appreciated. He was sure the Headmaster only wanted to help, but Ron's answer wouldn't change. Call him paranoid, but he'd rather jump off a bridge.

"Something is seriously wrong with you Ronald," Dumbledore sighed, his brow furrowing in disappointment. "We both know this to be true. I only want to help."

"The answer is still no." He shook his head to make sure his position was understood. Never. He resisted the urge to scoot back.

"I'm afraid that the decision is no longer yours to make. While your parents have been informed of the situation and you are not yet of age, they have the final say in this matter. They have already agreed that if you refuse my help again that you will be moved to St. Mungo's where the healers there will continue your care. And while you are there, they will get the ministry's approval to have a Legilimens sort through your mind to try and discovery what is array. And I for one would like to keep the ministry out of this. Wouldn't you?"

"Of course I do!" Ron half flopped back on his bed.

"Then consider this one more night. If your answer remains the same tomorrow morning then you will be sent to St. Mungo's."

With his last bit of advice, Dumbledore turned around and left the infirmary. Ron watched him go as he considered what the Headmaster had said. He hated ultimatums and that was exactly what Dumbledore had given him. He didn't even notice Draco's stare from across the room as Madam Pomfrey attended his wounds. Nor did he perceive the intense silence that held the three people in the hospital wing. Poppy was not even asking her normal questions as she did her job. Draco, for once, held back from the scathing remarks that normally flowed from his tongue. Snape was wobbling over to the nearest bed, refusing to ask for help to get there. He fumed with anger and stared at Ron with calculating eyes.

No, Ron noticed none of this. He was too lost in his thoughts of what tomorrow would bring.

-oOo-

Faith hugged her black cloak closer to her body as she moved through the secret tunnel that would lead her into Hogwarts. The dirt walls looked remarkably similar since the last time she'd used the passageway, and the air was filled with the same heavy scent of dirt and mold. Not much littered the floor, and she was pretty sure that there shouldn't be any large obstacles such as tree roots and rubble. She only hoped that the castle looked the same too.

Faith was trying to be as covert as possible, and had been since she'd approached the school's grounds. Her goal was quite simple: get to Ron and get him out as quickly as she could. She hadn't had any trouble trying to figure out what to wear either. And lucky for her, it was both a perfect disguise and a comfortable one. At the moment, beneath her dark cloak, she wore something similar to a Hogwarts school uniform. She was going to attempt to fit in as a seventh year student from Ravenclaw. True, it wasn't the house that she'd most likely get into, but because they were book worms she could shrug off people not recognizing her by claiming to always be in the library. It was a stupid excuse but it was all that she could come up with. She'd even attached a ridiculously awful badge to the front of the cloak to help her fit in.

Faith's brown hair hung freely down her back, and she wore very little make-up and flat shoes in an attempt to look younger. Carrying two books that she had purchased earlier in Hogsmeade (both on practical charms) only added to the illusion of her being a student. They were a hassle to carry in the tunnel, but Faith knew they would help her fit in. She would even try to not walk as….aggressively as she knew she usually did. Not that she was going to skip or anything. With Faith being only a few years older then the seventh year students, she was sure that she could pass as one as long as no one looked too closely.

It was a little before six o'clock and if she was correct most of the students should be in the great hall eating. With the hallways mostly clear, she knew this was going to be as easy as pie. Her edge was still as perfect as ever. Turning a corner, she continued down the dark passage. Go in, get Freckles, and get out before anyone left dinner.

As she reached the end of the tunnel, she paused and listened for any movement on the other side of where she knew the humped back witch statue to be. Hearing only silence, she pressed the stone that moved the statue and opened the door into the hallway. Quickly, she closed the hidden passageway. Taking a second to orientate herself, she glanced around the deserted hallway. She was back at Hogwarts.

The first time she had visited the castle it was still whole and looked squeaky new. A year later the castle had been mostly destroyed in a battle.

Willow had wanted to come with, but Faith had told her no.

There was little argument. Considering that Willow had no idea where she would be going, there was no way that Faith had been willing to let her come with.

She started down the empty hallway and tried to appear like she belonged in the castle; to look like any other student walking around the halls. She wasn't going to try to stay in the shadows and hide like she was braking and entering. After all, there were always eyes watching in the hallway. Paintings were everywhere and unavoidable. Even the hallway she was in now, animals roamed and people talked and watched from the frames. No need to look suspicious, even to them.

Faith walked at a fast pace as she navigated the halls. Passing a few students, they only gave her a quick glance before discarding her presence as just one of their few unknown peers from another house. Her books, raised just high enough to cover the ridiculous patch, helped to keep her anonymous. She kept her face neutral, and didn't meet anyone's gaze directly. As long as she didn't run into any professors, which could be disastrous, she should be okay. Hell, they really were the only people here who could definitely recognize that she doesn't belong.

Too many halls to count, some staircases and nameless faces later, she stood outside the hospital wing doors, books still clutched slightly to her chest. Fuck, she needed Ron to be there.

Pushing open the doors, she walked into the silent room. It was only slightly similar to 'Muggle' medical facilities. The walls were white and bare, as were the sheets on the beds. But no medial equipment littered the room and it lacked that off-putting hospital smell. Glancing around, the infirmary appeared to be empty, but if she listened, she could hear the faint sound of breathing. A still figure perched on the far windowsill, his pajamas the same eggshell white as the rest of the room. Even from a distance she could recognize his red hair in the muted light.

Ron.

She had found him.

He didn't stir as she approached, but she knew that he heard her. She had trained him far too well for him to miss someone approaching. She wasn't trying to mask her movements.

She stopped a few feet away, and noticed that he still hadn't acknowledged her presence. Faith hadn't really thought about what she was going to say to Ron once she found him, but she opened her mouth anyways.

"Hey Freckles," she almost whispered. "How ya doing?"

At the sound of her voice he turned to her, his blue eyes widening as he took in her face. Sliding off of the sill, he reached out and gave her a good poke.

"You actually exist," Ron smiled faintly. "I could have sworn that you were only in my head. Unless, of course, this is a dream?"

Faith leered at him and watched a blush spread. Just like old times.

"Bugger, not that I dream about you in _that_ way or anything," he amended.

"Of course you do, haven't met a man yet who doesn't," she replied, deciding to make their banter as light as possible. There was no need to get bogged down by everything immediately.

"You sure think rather highly of yourself," he retorted.

Faith shrugged, motioning vaguely at her body, "What can I say, when you look this good there's no denying it."

Ron laughed, shaking his head at her. The tension that had been in his shoulders seemed to visibly ease. It was good to hear his voice again. He hadn't changed a bit; she could still make him blush at the slightest innuendo.

Faith could feel her smile grow as she looked closer at Ron. She missed him. It was strange, she'd never had a family before, but somehow that was what Ron had become. He was part of her family and she was relieved to see that he was okay. But to be honest, she was a little shocked at how much different he looked. And while she knew that he wouldn't look the same, it was still startling. Young wasn't the right word, he'd always looked young. His face had retained youth well. So, it didn't feel right to say that he looked young. No, he looked small.

Even in the moonlight she could tell that he was pale. His left forearm was wrapped, and she could see some of the gauze peaking out from his sleeve. His shoulder had to be wrapped as well. The bandages almost blended into his skin. Faith snorted to herself, his paleness combined with the gauze and white hospital cloths made him look like some sort of ghost, and a sick one at that.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure what your name is," he scratched at the back of his neck. His comfortableness dissolved into something much more awkward, and she watched him glance down at his hospital pajamas in obvious embarrassment.

"Faith," she said. "But no worries, it's all good. You're probably confused enough as it is."

His looked at her with uncertainty. "You could say that."

"Anyway, that's why I'm here," Faith looked at his face. "To help sort you all out."

Ron eyed her warily as concern worked its way onto his face.

"To sort me all out?" he replied. "You know what happened to me?"

"Sure do," Faith answered. "I went through the same thing myself."

Ron sighed at slouched back down on the sill. His gaze traveled to his bandaged arm, more precisely, to the red drops that danced across the white gauze. The few spots of color marring an otherwise white figure making them stand out.

"Scoot over kid," Faith said taking a seat next to him and depositing her books on the floor. "Look I can help. I know that everything is sort of fucked up right now and confusing but I really can fix it. Well, I know someone who can fix it and she's totally cool. Technically you know her too but since you don't know what's going on yet, it's just confusing."

Faith sighed. This whole explaining things off the top of her head wasn't going so well. Perhaps it would have been a good idea instead of letting her mouth run off like a dip shit to have thought her words through a bit more.

"How do I know that I can trust you," he muttered.

"You just do," Faith said. "You've always had good instincts."

"What kind of answer is that?" Ron lightly shook his head. "You could be a Death Eater or someone from the Ministry or hell, maybe I'm just dreaming."

"You're not dreaming," Faith replied. "Look, the beginning of the summer before second year the twins turned all of the hair on your body green. You were pissed and decided that you needed to get back at them. You spent weeks planning your revenge by gathering prickly thorn bugs from the garden. One month later, you were on laundry duty with you mom and it was the opportunity you were waiting for. You snuck the bugs into what you thought were the clean sheets of the twins. The next morning your mom woke the entire house with her screams. Apparently you had accidentally put them in her sheets. She blamed the twins and they had gnome duty for a month. You decided that was revenge enough. The twins claimed innocence and no one knows to this day that it was you."

Ron had a surprised vacant look on his face. "How did you know about that?"

"Because you told me," Faith replied. "It had been a bad night and you were trying to make me laugh."

"Then why don't I remember?" Ron asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"You will," Faith reassured. "You just have to trust me."

Ron leaned back against the window and closed his eyes. Faith could see the emotions fly across his face. She knew that he had reasons to be distrustful; if their positions were reversed she knew she'd feel the same way. But Ron had been known for his great instincts and she hoped that he was listening to them now.

"This entire week has been hell," he finally spoke. "I've been confused about everything. I didn't feel like I could trust myself."

He paused and Faith let the silence fill the room as he thought.

"But you," he continued, "are the first person that I've been able to talk to all week without second guessing myself. I don't want to run off or throw you from the room. I don't have any unexplainable guilt or anger. I just feel more like myself since this had happened."

"I know that it's been hard. I was only fucked up for a few days, and that's an experience that I never want to repeat. I lashed out uncontrollably. I attacked people who only wanted to help. In the end I had to be restrained until I calmed down. In a brief period of coherency I had some sense talked into me and we developed a plan," Faith replied. "Even after I had a plan I still freaked out. I wasn't normally until I got my head on straight. And you won't be okay until the same thing happens to you."

He was silent for a moment longer, his eyes closing as he seemed to think about her words. His head tilted to the side and a slight frown crossed his face. Faith watched him absently rub at the bandage on his arm and hoped that he wouldn't need anymore convincing.

"So, I'm not actually going bonkers?" he asked opening his eyes.

"No, but if you stay like this for much longer and you will be."

"Do you know what it is?" Faith was confused by his question. He sounded really worried. "Under the bandage. Is your arm bandaged too?"

His last words had a pathetic twist of hope to them, as if he wanted her answer to be no. He must not have taken it off yet. The consequences of course would have been disastrous if someone had looked underneath. She really had gotten here right on time.

Faith pulled back the left arm of her robe. She had yet to pull off the gauze, even though it had probably healed over by now. You know the advantages of being a slayer and all.

"Yeah," she said, presenting her arm and keeping her face perfectly neutral. She knew that this part was going to be especially hard for him.

"I was hoping that it was just a random wound from the incident," he replied, his voice becoming a soft whisper. "But ever since I woke up from that night I've known that it is something bad. And if you have it too, there is no way that it's some sort of coincidence."

"Yeah," she had an idea of what would be staring back. Not that she'd admit it, but she was feeling the same sense of dread as him. "But hey, we'll take them off together."

Ron nodded, seeming to like the idea, "Together."

"So, you ready to blow this joint- Cause I know that I am."

Ron gave her a hard look.

"I can think of practically a million reasons as to why I shouldn't go with you."

"But in the end you will," she said, getting back to her feet and unceremoniously brushing her robes off. She set a hand to her hip. "Cause no guy can resist me for long."

"Right, back to that now are we?" Ron watched her for a moment, and Faith was glad that he'd stopped staring at his arm. Thinking about something like _that_ for too long could drive a person bonkers. "You do realize that people will notice if I disappear?"

Faith shrugged, "We'll leave a note then."

"A note?" He sounded both dumbfounded and shocked.

"Yeah, saying 'I've gone off to get sane, see you later' type of thing."

"That's not exactly going to work."

"Well it doesn't have to be worded like that. It can say whatever you want it to say."

Ron got to his feet and walked over to a table next to one of the hospital beds. He picked his wand up off of it.

"I have a better idea," he said then called, "Dobby!"

A moment later the house elf appeared. Faith had met him before, not she thought he'd remember her though or anything. From beneath the ridiculous amount of clothing he wore, she could make out large eyes and equally large ears.

"Dobby is happy to see that master Wheezy is feeling better! What can Dobby do for you sir?" The house elf asked, not seeming to notice Faith. Which suited her just fine considering his fawning attitude always made her feel a bit ill.

"I need you to deliver a message to the Headmaster," Ron requested, and then seemed to ponder his words before adding. "And Harry and Hermione as well. Just make sure that only those three hear it."

"Dobby can do that sir!"

"Good," Ron took a second to think. "Tell them that I've left with a visitor who knows what is wrong with me. And to not worry, or search for me because I will be coming back as soon as I am well."

Turning to Faith he asked, "How long will we be gone?"

"Two days at the most," she answered, hoping that putting him back together wouldn't take Willow any longer. And that they wouldn't run into any other problems. After all, Faith had been worked on a bit earlier, and Ron's mind had had the opportunity to deteriorate more.

"Tell all of them that I will be back no later then two days," Ron finished, clearly wishing that he had a bit more information to impart. "Do you have all of that Dobby?"

"Yes sir! Dobby remembers it all!"

"How's that better then a note?" Faith asked, her eyes going back and forth between Ron and the house elf.

"Notes can easily be intercepted and read. But Dobby will deliver the message for us safe and sound."

Faith snorted, though silently commending him for thinking that logically, "Dumbledore is still going to shit a brick when he finds out you're gone, and not to mention that Harry and Hermione will be mad that you didn't tell them in person. Or that you didn't take them with."

"Shit a brick, really," he laughed and shook his head. "That's one way of putting it. And as for Harry and Hermione, I'll just have to deal with them later. But I can't really do much else, can I?"

After a moment of thought, Faith decided to risk it. She would have to play this carefully.

"Here," Faith reached into her pocket. "Give Dumbledore this."

She handed Ron her business card. Faith knew that she was taking a chance. This could totally screw her over, especially if Dumbledore went to the Ministry, but Faith didn't think that would happen. Dumbledore would play it cool. He'd probably still look for them, but she wouldn't expect anything else. If they were lucky, he'd look around London where the Council was located instead of in Hogsmeade. The card didn't have her name on it, or even her phone number just the number for the London branch, so he shouldn't be able to trace it back to her. But she knew that this simple action would help lay a foundation for future cooperation. At least, she thought it would. Having never actually met the real Dumbledore, there was always a chance that he'd react differently. But she was pretty sure she had a proper picture of him.

Ron raised his eyebrows as he took it. It might not be what the kid was expecting but it should do the trick. At least this way, Dumbledore would know that Ron hadn't been taken by Death Eaters. Even they weren't stupid enough to pretend to be Council members.

Ron passed the card to Dobby.

"Could you please deliver the message to them in forty minutes, and give Dumbledore this card as well?"

Dobby nodded and disappeared with a crack. Faith liked that the house elf hadn't pestered and prodded Ron with questions.

"We need to get out of here before-" but Ron's words were cut off as the hospital doors opened and Madam Pomfrey walked in, obviously returning from dinner.

Faith froze, unsure of how to handle the moment, and cast her eyes toward Ron. He was turning a bright shade of red.

"Mr. Weasley," she chided, taking them both in with a quick and professional glance. "After this morning's episode, you are supposed to remain in bed. Not to mention that the Headmaster has ordered no visitors. I'm afraid young lady that you are going to have to leave."

Faith looked at Ron and made a motion with her head in the healer's direction. Ron raised his eyebrows, and it was clear that he had no idea what she was trying to communicate.

Faith sighed in frustration and left her post, slowly making her way to the door. He could be so dense at times.

As she passed him, she whispered from the corner of her mouth, "Put her to sleep."

She didn't stop to see if he had heard her. If he hadn't then she would just have to take matters into her own hands and knock the healer unconscious. But it seemed that he had, because a beam of lilac colored light passed over her shoulder and intercepted the witch. She collapsed to the ground in a flutter of white robes. As quickly as Faith could, she hoisted the woman over her shoulder and deposited her onto one of the beds. She actually felt sort of bad that she hadn't rushed forward to catch her. These floors weren't exactly soft, and the woman had only been doing her job. Oh, well. Someone was bound to find her and wake her up.

"Let get out of here," she said as she picked up her text books and walked out of the door. She didn't need to look back to know that Ron was following her. Faith took off her cloak and handed it back to Ron. He needed to blend in a little better instead of looking like some sort of mental ward escapee. He took it without a fuss and threw it over his shoulders.

Together they made their way to the humped back witch statue. The halls were still mostly empty, and Ron easily matched her quick pace. At first he seemed confused as to where she was going. But as they made their way past passageways and around corners he seemed to catch on to how they were going to escape. They were only a hall away before they were stopped again.

"Ron, where are you going?" asked a concerned female voice from behind them. "Aren't you supposed to still be in the infirmary?"

Faith didn't turn around. It would be best if Ron handled this situation. Especially since whoever was talking to him would more then likely realize that she was out of place. She knew that it would be best if few people saw her face.

"Ginny?" Aw, it was Freckles sister. "I'm just out for a walk. You know how stuffy the hospital wing gets?"

The excuse was so lame, that even Faith roller her eyes. Ron might as well have exclaimed that he was out to do his potions homework.

Ginny snorted, "A walk? Yeah right. I'm not stupid. You're sick Ron, and I for one think you need to get back to Madam Pomfrey."

Her voice had that no-nonsense edge to it that sounded like it had been adopted from a parent. Faith knew that Ron had always been slightly afraid of his mother, and his replying tone suggested that their mother was where Ginny had gotten her tone from.

"Come on, I've been cooped up in that tower for practically a week now. I just need to stretch my legs for a bit. You won't tell, will you?"

He ended his plea with a sort of pitiful half whine. Faith could bet that he was shuffling his feet and rubbing at the back of his neck, he always had to lay it on thick.

Ginny was silent for a moment before saying, "What are you doing with Lavender anyway? I know it's you so you can stop trying to ignore me."

Faith almost bristled when Ginny's voice directed itself at her, but stayed still. It wasn't like Faith could hide from the girl now, but at least Ginny thought that she was someone else. And if this 'Lavender' girl got into trouble later, it wasn't as if it would be Faith's fault.

"Fine," Ginny huffed, turning her attention back to Ron. "Ignore me. But _you_ are getting your arse back to the infirmary now. Can you imagine what would happen if it was Umbridge who found you wandering the halls? And Mom and Dad would murder me if they knew I'd let you meander around sick! Honestly Ron!"

Faith knew that Ron had always had a soft spot for his younger sister. His only sister, they two of them were constantly teasing one another. And while he might curse her when angry, he wouldn't deliberately cause her any harm. Turning around before either of them had a chance to react; she dropped her books and moved behind the red haired girl. Faith snatched the wand out of her hand and put her into a head lock.

Ginny shrieked in outrage and Ron broke out of his stupor, watching his sister flail and kick and spout out curse words.

"Ron," Faith said, bringing his attention back to her. She spoke between clenched teeth. "I don't want to hurt her so take care of this now so we can go."

Ron stared at his sister trying to decide what to do. It was obvious that he didn't relish the prospect of casting any sort of spell on her. Muttering an apology, he quickly flicked his wand and murmured a spell. Ginny fell limply into Faith's arms.

"It's only a light sleep spell so she'll be awake in ten minutes or so," he explained, although his gaze looked a bit worried as he watched Faith lower her to the floor. He stepped forward, grabbing her wand back from Faith and slipping it into Ginny's pocket. Faith watched his brotherly concern with a smirk on her mouth.

Faith had meet Ginny before a couple of times, but she never had a chance to get to know the girl.

"Only ten minutes?" Faith questioned.

"I wasn't going to do it for any longer. What if some Slytherin found her?"

"Fine," Faith said, hearing the barely masked irritation in his voice. "Is there an empty room around here to stash her in?"

"Stash her?!" His voice was skeptical.

"I mean," Faith rephrased her words in an effort to make Ron get a move on, "Tuck her away so no Slytherins will find her?"

After opening a couple of doors, Ron found an empty class room to leave Ginny in. He whispered another quick apology and left her. It would only be ten minutes or so, and Faith was sure she'd be okay for such a short amount of time. Faith also took this opportunity to shove her books in an empty cupboard in the room. There was no need for them anymore now that they were so close to the witch statue. They would only get in the way.

They remained quiet as they walked through the tunnel. Faith kept glancing behind her to make sure Ron was okay. She knew that he felt bad for what he'd done to his sister, even if it was just putting her to sleep. He had always been fiercely loyal to those he considered family. Shaking her head, she continued down the tunnel. Ginny had surely woken up by now and if things were on schedule Dobby would be giving Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione the message in another ten or fifteen minutes. Hopefully by then they would be back at Faith's room.

"How do you plan on helping me anyway?" Ron asked as they neared the passageway end. In the dark his voice sounded younger than she remembered. It was also starting to sound a bit doubtful, as if he wasn't quite sure if he'd made the right decision.

As she peered out of the trap door into the basement of Honeydukes she said, "Willow will do more of the fixing then me."

"Willow?" he rolled the name around as if it sounded familiar.

"Yeah, cute red head that looks like your long lost sister," Faith said exiting the tunnel.

"I'd rather not have anyone muddling around in my head."

Faith sighed, "Believe me, I know how you feel. But Willow's a good girl, and she has already practiced on me, so you should be all good."

Ron didn't answer as they quietly made their way out of the basement and into the store. Honeydukes was mostly empty with one lonely customer at the check out. The aisles looked oddly forlorn with no children huddled around grabbing things off the shelves. It was some time before seven thirty and most customers were still at home just finishing dinner. Luckily, the clerk didn't noticed the two people who apparently appeared out of nowhere in her store. After pretending to peruse for a couple of minutes, they headed out onto the street.

"You and I are in this together and I need you sane for this to work. I know that I'm repeating my self here, but trust me. Cause Willow and I know a hell of a lot more of what's happened to you then Dumbledore. And if you get caught by the Ministry there's a good chance of going to Azkaban. I don't think that Dumbledore would turn you in, but I'm not going to take that chance and neither should you."

"Why can't you just tell me exactly what's going on?" he asked, clearly frustrated and tired of feeling confused.

"Wait till we're in the room."

He rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.

As they stopped before the door to The Three Broomsticks, Faith turned around to face him.

"Put the hood up on the cloak," she said. "Hopefully no one will recognize you."

Ron did as she asked, covering the heavy mop of red hair that was like a beacon on his head. It didn't seem like anyone paid any more attention then normal when they entered, well normal for her. She noticed that people had the tendency to look at her no matter what when she entered a room. But at least most of their eyes were on her instead of Ron, who surprisingly looked right at place with his hood up and falling forward over his face. Taking the stairs, she felt the eyes from the common room turn away from her as they moved up the stairs.

Faith unlocked the door and found Willow sprawled out on the bed, pen in hand. At least half a dozen books were open and crowded around her. She didn't even notice them as they entered, instead concentrating on what she was writing in the notebook in front of her.

"You know Red," Faith jabbed, amused at the sight. "You do have your own room."

Willow shrugged sheepishly, her eyes peeking up from the notebook they were focused on. "Yeah but I wanted to be here when you got back."

There was a definite poutiness to her voice.

Ron stepped into the room after Faith and closed the door behind him. Taking the hood down, he gave Willow a look over. His eyebrows drew themselves together, but otherwise his facial expression didn't change.

"Willow, this is Ron. Ron," she motioned with her hand to the girl on the bed. "Willow."

Willow moved a few books and stood up. She gave a small wave and smiled.

"Ah, hi," Ron muttered, his eyes quickly glancing away.

Willow turned her attention to clearing off the bed, carefully marking her spot in each book.

"Um, what are you doing anyway?" Faith asked, picking up one of the books and glancing at the title on the spine_. Magical Theory and You_, by Ebony Ruggle. It didn't look like that interesting of a read.

"Oh," Willow looked up. "Just, you know a little research. Trying to figure out what you asked me to earlier."

Faith smiled, Red was already trying to work out wizard's magic. Sweet.

Faith turned her attention back to the boy shifting nervously behind her. He kept his eyes resolutely on the floor, but the redness on his ears was a clear giveaway. Ron was anxious.

"So, the sooner we do this the better," Faith said as she turned to Ron. No sense in waiting around.

Ron gave her a panicked look, and his eyes bounced between Willow and Faith.

"Look," Faith replied to his wide eyes, trying to talk in a soothing voice. Faith wasn't quite sure her voice knew how to 'soothe.' "We've already been over this. You gotta let her do this. If we don't get that mind of yours organized, you might as well hop on the crazy train."

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair before nodding. His other hand fisted itself nervously in his shirt.

"Fine, just don't try to look around too much at anything," he said. "I really don't want to wake up any barmier than I already am."

"You won't. I promise. Now, take off your shoes, lie back on the bed and relax," Willow said in what was supposed to be her own version of a calming voice. Hers seemed to work much more effectively. She stood up from the now clean bed, and motioned him forward. Although the bed covers were rumpled, the books had been placed onto the floor in organized piles.

Faith and Willow had already discussed what they would need to do when Ron got there. Kicking off his shoes and then laying the borrowed cloak on a chair, he tentatively sat down. He didn't seem to want to put himself into such a vulnerable position, but after a moments hesitation brought his feet up onto the bed.

"So, now what?" he asked as he laid back.

"Here," Faith handed Ron a piece of paper.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Remember that symbol. You should be able to find it somewhere in your memories. When you do, you need to concentrate on that," Faith said.

"It's not a very good drawing," Ron muttered, turning the paper this way and that.

"Hey! I drew that!" Granted, the image wasn't perfect but Faith was never that much of an artist. And honestly, it wasn't that bad.

Ron smirked at her, no doubt satisfied with the reaction he got. If it would make the redhead loosen up, Faith was fine being the butt of a couple of jokes.

"So," Willow said, pulling up a chair next to him. "This is going to feel a little weird and unnatural, but I need you to just relax, think about the image on the paper, and not freak out when you feel another presence enter your mind."

Faith knew that this had to be hard on the kid. Even now he looked as if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Hell, it had been difficult enough for her and she'd at least had a working relationship with Willow. But Ron had always seemed to be able to impress her. He had a shit load of courage and fire in him. She admired that and was counting on it to pull him through this.

Minutes ticked by as Ron relaxed, Willow's chanting voice the only noise in the room. Faith didn't listen to what the witch was saying. She was more worried about whether it would work. It should, but if something did go wrong, she didn't think that she'd be able to do this alone. Even with Ron, this was going to be harder than hell.

Rubbing her eyes, Faith made her way to the plush red arm chair next to the window. Sitting down, she watched the two redheads. Not concentrating on anything, she allowed her thoughts to wander. She had met Ron many years ago, and while he young then, he was definitely not the gangly teenager that was before her.

_Faith kicked the limp body on the ground over, confirming that it was indeed dead. Its skull mask had been shattered and the man's lifeless glazed over eyes stared at her. Faith sighed, no doubting it now, the black cloaked fuckers were definitely human. Sure they were warlocks of some kind, but some of the girls would be upset that they'd been killing humans, not demons. Stupid girls, Faith knew that they needed to realize that humans could be just as evil as those things non-human. No matter how hard the reality check would be. She had a feeling that today would lead to a huge discussion in the Council about the repercussions of breaking this particular slayer taboo. Faith was glad she wouldn't have to sit in on that. _

Faith was supposed to be on vacation in Greece right now. Just a quick check in with Giles in London and then hello foreign hotties. She'd been planning it for months, had her new swimsuit and kick ass leather boots ready and waiting in her bag. But the two day brief stay in London had luckily_ turned out to coincide with another apocalypse. Yippee skippy. Her two days had transformed into a week of nonstop fighting and now she was special enough to be wandering around the second story of an old house in London. One that smelled like mold and dust, and had furniture in it from the turn of the century. Oh, and filled with masked lunatics. _

They had been traveling on foot to a rendezvous point where they were supposed to meet with Dawn and some slayers when they ran into the crazy masked losers. They had attacked for no apparent reason. Okay, so the reason might have been because Faith had called them steaming piles of shit, but really, who knows? Giles wasn't very happy about her choice of words. After a brief fight, the bad guys had retreated into a dilapidated house. Faith wasn't one to let her prey get away, especially after it tried to shoot her with lethal green light, so she had followed. Unfortunately, there were more of them in the house then she had originally thought.

Faith turned to the room that the dead man was guarding. Readying her sword, she kicked the door open. The black hooded figure inside was taken by surprise. She just had enough time to charge through the door before he shot a spell at her. Diving under the spell, she slide up to him and kicked out his legs. He landed with a hard thud. Faith hopped back up to her feet and drove the sword through his chest. This was no time to consider what the repercussions of these killing would be. Deaths like these the others partly blamed for her fall into darkness, and no doubt this would be an issue later. Besides, it was no use taking prisoners at the moment. Every bad guy they had come across thus far had been nothing but a flunky. Going on about the greatness of the Dark Lord and crap. It had gotten pretty sickening pretty quickly.

As she wiped her sword clean on the body's cloak, she surveyed the room. Surprisingly, there was another person. Mentally cursing herself for not noticing sooner, she made her way over to him.

He was naked and chained to the wall. Dried blood and dirt clung to his pale skin in an ugly collage. Little bits of it had flaked off to the floor, collecting in dry little puddles. Faith knew that he had to have been there for at least a few days. He eyed her warily as she approached.

He could be a bad guy, but at the moment he was in such bad condition that it really didn't matter

"Any idea where the key is?" she asked.

The man shook his head no.

Checking the dead men, she found nothing. It looked like she'd have to do this the hard way.

"This'll just take a minute," Faith said as she studied the chains.

Beginning with his shackled feet, she grabbed the chain and pulled hard. With a loud clang, she pulled the anchors off of the wall. After finishing with his feet, she positioned herself so that when she pulled out the remaining chains, he would fall into her instead of onto the ground.

Warning him what would happen, she pulled out the last chain and caught him as he collapsed. Lowering him to the ground she turned back to the door as footsteps approached.

"Jesus," said a voice that Faith recognized. A blonde haired slayer named Mae stepped through the door. She was dirtied with blood but didn't look seriously injured.

Faith turned her attention back to man on the floor. Now that she took a closer look, she'd have to say he was probably Dawn's age, late teens or early twenties.

"Can ya stand?" Faith asked him.

"Maybe," he replied in a British accent.

"Mae," Faith gestured for the girl to help them. It took a few minutes, but they got him up, although he still leaned on Faith for support.

Mae grabbed the black cloak off of the dead man on the floor and draped it over his shoulders.

"Thanks," he muttered. His voice was raspy from torture. "We need to find my things."  
Faith raised an eyebrow, "Really? Cause I think it might be a little more important to get the hell out of here than find your stuff."

He shook his head.

"I need it."

"Any idea where they might be?" Mae asked, clearly trying to be helpful.

Faith glared at her.

"What?" Mae replied. "Look, I'd rather go get his stuff than argue about it."

"In one of the rooms on this floor," he coughed, his entire body shuddering violently. Faith took on a bit more of his weight before he regained control.

"Is it all clear?" Faith turned to Mae.

"Yeah, we're good. The upper floor is small, so we can find it and get out in no time."

Mae led the way as Faith and the man hobbled down the hall. Why was he still clutching onto her? Really, she was the leader so he should be using Mae as the cane.

"By the way," he said hoarsely after they'd finished searching the first room. "My name's Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Name's Faith kid."

As they entered the second room Ron sighed in triumph. Thrown on the bed was a pile of bloody clothing which Faith assumed belonged to him. Faith steadied him as he pulled on his pants. The shirt was so ripped and damaged that he didn't even try. He picked the rest of the items up off the bed. A stick, like the ones the mask wearing warlocks used, and a gold cup.

"Got all your crap?" Faith asked, irritated.

Ron nodded.

"Good, let's get the others and get the fuck out," Faith said.

The stairs creaked as they walked to the first floor. At the foot of the stairs was a brown haired freckled English slayer named Coral waiting for them. Giles was not far away, looking out the window.

"What took you so long?" he asked turning to Faith. He gave a slight sputter at the sight of Ron hanging onto her. "While I am glad that you saved some poor soul, we have to get going. We need to rendezvous with Dawn and the others in ten minutes and we still have a considerably long way to walk."

"Calm down Giles," Faith replied.

"Bugger," Giles swore and tore away from the window as a red spell shattered the glass and hit the wall behind them.

"Looks like there are more of them," Mae said as she took cover.

Faith turned to Ron, "I gotta find someplace to put you while we take care of this."

"Wait," Ron said, struggling to hold himself upright. "I have a way to get us out of here."

Faith looked over her shoulder, "Really? Cause I think that if you had a way out of here you would have used it earlier. You know, before you were chained to the wall."

"Honestly, do you want to get out of here or not?"

Faith eyed him wearily. He looked better now that he was wearing pants, but he still looked like he was going to fall over dead any minute. She glanced at his left arm and found it unmarked. So far she had noticed that all of the humans she'd defeated had a skull and snake tattoo on that arm. Still, just because he was missing the tattoo didn't mean that he was a good guy.

By now, Giles had moved away from the window and closer to her. He'd heard what the red head had said.

"What's you name then," Giles asked.

"Ron Weasley."

Giles turned to Faith, "You found him like this upstairs?"

"Yeah," she answered, "but he was naked and chained to the wall."

"How do you plan on getting us out of here?" Giles asked Ron.

"Um, I have a Portkey," Ron sounded unsure of whether he should have offered to help.

The word was entirely new to Faith but Giles seemed to recognize it.

"To where?" he asked his eye brows slightly rising.

The silence was short as Ron eyed the two of them. Faith saw a flare of caution fly across his face. But that quickly left as a green spell fired past all three of them.

"Hogwarts," he told Giles. "It'll take us there."

Giles nodded at Ron giving him the okay.

"Mae, Coral," Giles called. "Get over here."

Ron reached into his pockets and pulled out a coin.

"I need everyone to hold on to each other," he said.

Faith wasn't quite sure what to think as she adjusted Ron's arm around her neck and grasped Mae's right hand. Looking over at Giles, she saw that he held onto Ron as well as Coral. Whatever was going on seemed to stir up something in Giles' mind, and no doubt he would share his conclusions later, probably when they found Dawn. Wait a minute. . .

"What about Dawn?" Faith asked.

"I'll contact her as soon as we're someplace safe," Giles answered.

"And Hoagie-warts, or whatever is safe?" Faith questioned.

"It is," was all the answer that Giles gave her.

"Alright then," Ron rasped. "This is going to feel a little wonky."

After making brief eye contact with all those traveling, he said "Activate Snickers."

The next thing Faith knew she was about to lose her lunch all over a stone floor. Taking a deep breath, she gained control of her queasy stomach. Whatever had just happened, it did not agree with her. A pair of dirty shoes appeared in her vision, and Faith looked up- ready to fight if necessary. Before her, a black haired guy with intense green eyes stared down at her.

-oOo-

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office twirling the business card that had just been delivered to him with his fingers. He would have to call an Order meeting to discuss the events of the evening and find Mr. Weasley. Not many things scared Dumbledore; he was old and had seen much in his life. While this card did not necessarily scare him, it was a definite cause to worry.

It was a card from The Watcher's Council.

The Watcher's Council had Ron.

The Council had not been involved in wizarding affairs for a very long time. Not since World War II had they taken an active role in wizarding society. But yet, they had felt the need to take a sixteen year old boy out of a magical school. If the Ministry of Magic knew about this, they would throw a fit. He had plenty of problems dealing with the Ministry already, and did not need anymore. They would most certainly blame him for the kidnapping. Whoever had taken Ron must have known that. They would have not given Dobby the card if they'd felt he would have alerted the Ministry of their interference. No, the card along with the message from Dobby was supposed to reassure him in knowing that nothing was going to happen to Ron.

Dumbledore looked back down at the card in his hand.

All it said was the name of the organization and gave the London Branch phone number. Not much to go by, not even a person's contact name. Of course it didn't help that he had never owned or seriously operated a phone.

Albus would call an order meeting and could only hope that Ron was truly well. After all, what could The Council possibly want with Ron Weasley? Alas, that was not a thought that Dumbledore found comforting at all.


	6. Planning the Future

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, _The Order of the Phoenix_. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: Mein Teil will contain Deathly Hallows spoilers! **

Ron's original seventh year (the one he's traveling through time to change) will be loosely based off of _Deathly Hallows_. The changes that have been made to _Deathly Hallows _will be told throughout the story. With that said, I have made one change in the prologue. I had said that Remus Lupin was one of the survivors, it is now Dean Thomas.  
**

* * *

Mein Teil **

Chapter 5: Planning the Future

* * *

Early morning light assaulted Ron's eyes as he grudgingly awoke. His lids felt heavy and his entire body felt exhausted. Merlin he was tired. It hadn't taken this long for him to get out of bed since he'd attended Hogwarts. Taking a moment to glance around the unknown room, he briefly wondered where he was when a soft snort sounded beside him. Turning his head, he saw a figure sprawled out on the other half of the bed; a female figure. She had a blanket covering her face in an attempt to block out the dawn light. The blanket also covered half of her body and almost all of him. One of her long legs hung off the bed. Looking to the floor, he spotted jeans that had been haphazardly thrown from the night before. 

He smiled.

Even though her face was covered, he would recognize Faith anywhere. Also, there was the fact that she always seemed to hide under the covers in the morning when she didn't want to get up.

As if she knew that he was staring at her, she turned over onto her side and gave him view of her exposed bum. The black mesh knickers didn't leave much to the imagination.

Ron shook his head.

Yep, it was undoubtedly Faith. He would recognize that arse anywhere.

Whatever remaining urge to sleep left his body.

Smiling, he felt more childish then he'd felt in years and decided to do something quite mental. With an open palm, he slapped her bum, hard.

He laughed as Faith squealed.

Then, with a large thud, he found himself on the floor.

It was quite cold without the blanket to cover his bare chest. With a surprise, he realized that he was wearing a pair of white infirmary cloth pants. That was a bit strange; he didn't normally wear those to bed. His eyes moved from his pants and found the white matching shirt laying not too far off to the right.

"Owe, that hurt," he muttered as he pulled himself off of the ground.

Faith glared at him from her position on the bed. He had accidentally taken the blanket with him and it lay in a heap on the floor. The white tank top she wore didn't leave much to the imagination either. Something that Ron became painfully aware of as the last remnants of sleep left his body.

He felt his entire body redden as he realized that white cotton pants do not hide an alert lower extremity very well.

Faith smirked and raised her eyebrows. She had obviously noticed as well.

Merlin, what was wrong with him this morning? He refused to be embarrassed about it though. After all, it was a morning like every other, and after all, it was _morning_. It was perfectly normal state for him to wake up in. Bugger, he couldn't control his body in his sleep. He was a twenty something year old male and in the height of his prime, there was no need for him to be as embarrassed as a fourth year . . . but still. He picked up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around his waist. There was no chance that Faith wouldn't realize what he was trying to hide. This realization only added to his embarrassment.

"You better now?" Faith asked causing Ron's blush to brighten.

He weakly smiled in return.

The situation might be awkward, but there was nothing he was willing to do about it at the moment. Instead, he simply sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he settled onto it. Faith shifted around next to him to accommodate his weight. Ron felt, good. No, not good, he felt better since he had in years. His right knee that had been shattered by a demon wasn't aching like it did normally on mornings. Soaking in the strange, refreshing start of the day, he surveyed the room. He was facing a door and at his back was a window. To the right of him was a fireplace. In one corner of the room was a table and chair. A second chair that belonged with the other chair and table sat next to the bed.

Over the years he'd stayed in few places that were so nice. Most buildings had been stripped of anything of value or were missing important things, like walls. Every once in awhile they would get lucky and find a place that had suitable sleeping conditions. And when Merlin blessed them with a bed, it was a special occasion. But a place as nicely furnished as this room seemed surreal.

"Faith," he finally spoke, his eyes still examining the room. "Where are we?"

"The Three Broomsticks," her voice was slightly smoky.

"We're in Hogsmeade?" he exclaimed.

Well that was certainly a surprise, although not impossible. The town was still there, after all, it was the only all wizarding village in Britain. Voldemort hadn't destroyed it like he had most of London. But Hogsmeade was not a safe place for anyone not one hundred percent behind the Dark Lord. And while he willingly accepted his enslavement, that didn't mean he was a well behaved slave. He couldn't think of any reason as to why he would have traveled to Hogsmeade.

There have been many times that he had woken up in unfamiliar surrounds. It normally happened if he had been knocked unconscious or being held prisoner. The room was too nicely kept to be a prison, so that left the first option. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the last thing that had happened to him. It was difficult at first; he was caught between two sets of memories. The first of which was being in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. But that seemed highly unlikely considering he hadn't been to his old school in years. He ran a hand through his hair as a second set of memories appeared. Faith sitting across from him covered in red vines. The smell of blood filled his nostrils. She looked up and gave him a half hearted smile. His attention drifted to another figure in the memory, his brother Bill. Bill began chanting and Ron recognized the words.

It was the spell that Willow had created with the help of Bill and Hermione.

And if that _had_ happened, then perhaps Willow's spell had worked.

And that meant… They might actually be in the past.

No, no way. There wasn't any possible way that it could have worked.

Opening his eyes, he took a longer look at Faith. This time he focused on her face rather than the scantily clothed parts.

Inhaling sharply, he took in the subtle changes. It was a bit strange to look at the Faith before him, similar yet very different. Her face was younger and was missing the scars that he had identified with her unruly nature. There had been two scars. The first was an inch long and located diagonally across the right side of her forehead. It had cut into the end tip of her eyebrow. The second ran parallel above the first, however instead of cutting into her eyebrow it disappeared into her hair. She had gotten it from a battle with a Dar'ok demon. Its poison covered claws prevented quick healing, thus the scars.

And because her forehead was now remarkably scar free, Willow's spell working seemed more likely true by the second.

His pulse began to race as it suddenly became harder to breathe. He lowered his head to stare at the ground.

If the spell truly did work, then that would mean they had a chance.

Harry and Hermione . . . were here, alive.

Ron felt a deep tremble start inside of him.

He would not freak out.

He would not freak out.

He would not freak out.

They were alive.

He would not freak out.

He could save them this time.

He had a chance to save the entire world.

He would not freak out.

Oh Merlin, he was going to be sick.

Without a word to Faith, he sprang up off of the bed and ran to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the blanket wrapped around his waist got caught up in his legs. With a few loud stumbles he managed to shake it off and make it through the door. Without bothering to close it behind him he focused on what was important, not spewing all over the floor.

The little that was in his stomach, mostly bile, was now in the toilet.

Disregarding sanitary issues, he leaned his head on the outside edge of the porcelain bowl. He remained there for a few more minutes knowing that he might need to use it again. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to return himself to a semi-state of calm . . . right, like that was going to happen.

Ron slowly stood up and went to the sink. Rinsing out his mouth, he took notice of a tube of tooth paste balanced next to the sink. He put some on his finger and vigorously rubbed his teeth. It might be a poor imitation of brushing, but the minty sting that overtook his senses gave the illusion of clean. After a quick rinse he looked up into the mirror.

While Faith looked relatively the same, he had changed drastically. If he still had any doubts about the year, they were quickly mashed. By looking at his face alone he would guess that he was only fifteen or sixteen. His cheeks were chubbier. Overall, he looked softer then he was used too. This was the face that his mother always pinched and his brothers teased him about. His hair was the lighter red of his youth; it no longer had the copper undertones he had gained with age and stress.

He looked down to his chest and his arms, this time taking in the details. Frowning, he realized that he had lost muscle. He had worked hard to become fit. Between learning how to fight from Faith, spell practicing with Harry and Hermione, and a lot of running for his life, he had buffed up quite a bit. It was a bit disheartening to have all that work suddenly gone. He had a lot of work to do if he wanted to be even close to where he was when he was twenty six. On the plus side though he was missing a few choice scars that he had gathered over the years. Going from your mid twenties to being a teenager was quite a change. Shite, being this age was difficult enough the first time around and he had to do it all over again.

His eyes finally focused on his bandaged left arm. Taking a deep breathe, he rubbed at the bandage.

"How far back?" he asked Faith from the bathroom. She had yet to move from the bed.

"It's March of your fifth year in Hogwarts."

That would make him sixteen.

Ron sighed as he looked up, "It's too bad that we couldn't go back further to fourth year. Destroy the Dark Lord while he was still in his larval stage or something."

It was better for him to focus on the task at hand. Because if he started to think about his friends and his family now; he might just lose it again. At the moment, they were fine . . . right? Don't be silly of course his family is fine. If he could just remember what exactly had happened during the March of his fifth year. Well, his father had been attacked by Nagini. Wait, no that happened months ago. Are Fred and George still in school even? He doesn't quite remember when they had their grand finally. It seemed like so long ago. He would have to sort out details of the year later; there were more important tasks right now.

Ron left the bathroom and sat back down next to Faith. She watched him with her dark eyes and chewed a bit on her lower lip. He could tell that she was thinking about saying something but changed her mind at the last moment.

"We barely beat the First the first time around, shit we were lucky. There is no way we can chance going through that again. Too many things could go wrong and then Voldemort would be the least of our problems," she said, turning away from him to stare at some inconsequential point in the room. Ron knew that she was right. Just because the slayers had won their battle with the First didn't mean that they would win it again if there was a rematch. And that was a war they could not afford to lose. It was one of the stipulations that Willow had been serious about while deciding on how far was safe to go back. Ha, if traveling through time could ever be considered safe.

"So, you feelin' okay?" Faith asked.

Ron knew that her simple question took a lot for her to ask. While he had great respect for Faith, they did not often talk about personal feelings. She had tried to comfort him after Hermione died, but it could have been described as awkward at best.

"No, not really," he replied. "But I'm trying not to think about it right now because we probably don't have the time for me to go nutters."

"It'll get better," she said. "It just takes some time to get used to."

"I know," he nodded once. "But still."

"So," Faith said. "Where do we begin?"

Ron had no idea as to where to start and found his eyes going back to the bandaged arm. There was only one reason as to why that arm would be bandaged, and it worried him greatly. Looking back to Faith, he realized that her arm was bandaged as well. This didn't make him to feel any calmer.

If that meant what he thought it did, the consequences could be devastating. How could he face his friends? Or the Order? Bloody hell, how could he face the wizarding world in general? Just imagine the best mate of the boy-who-lived branded. Oh Merlin, he was almost certain he was going to be sick again.

"I know," Faith said, causing him to look up. She was looking at his arm as well. He wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. "I know; I really don't want that to be what I think it is."

He gave her a weak smile and glanced over at her left arm.

"Have you taken off the bandages yet?" he tentatively asked, his eyes remaining on her arm.

"Nope," she answered.

"Together?" he asked and Faith nodded back. His stomach rolled. He would not throw up . . . again.

The burns that were there should have had the proper time needed to mend. After all, Madam Pomphrey had said that it would take a week for the burns to heal correctly. She'd said that she wouldn't risk removing the healing skin as she pulled off the bandage. Ron was rather thankful that it had taken so long to heal. Otherwise, he wasn't sure of what he would have said about what could be underneath.

He unwrapped slowly and peeked sideways to see Faith going the same pace as he. There was more gauze on the wound than he had thought. He was torn between wanting to get it over with and putting it off as long as possible. Gradually the skin beneath the arm became more visible with each layer he peeled off. With each layer unwrapped his stomach churned and as the bandaged unwound he found his fears being confirmed. With each sheet removed a dark image became clearer. By the time that there was only one more single layer, he felt nauseous, again. As he tossed the bandage to the ground, his eyes settled on the appalling figure staring back.

His very own dark mark smiled at him from his left arm.

He stood up and threw across the room the only thing within reach. Unfortunately, a pillow didn't have quite the effect, or the crash that he was hoping for.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled through clenched teeth.

In anger he punched his fist into the wall. His knuckles hit the brick hard and he could feel that the skin had split open. He let his fist rest on the callous surface for a minute or two and took some deep breaths.

Why did it have to follow him?

With a shaky breath he brought his head to the wall. He knew the answer. And with the answer came a fear confirmed that made him feel hollow inside. It was whispered that the dark mark not only tainted the body but also the soul. That once the symbol stained your skin you belonged to the Dark Lord forever. Not even in death could you escape.

He was sixteen again, and that meant that his left forearm should be pale white and freckled. But it wasn't. Whatever had happened, the mark had followed him. Something other than his memories was sent back in time.

What was he going to do? If anyone found out . . . he . . . he didn't know what he could possibly do. Oh shite. Oh Merlin, what would he tell Harry? What would he say to Hermione?

His breath was still uneven and shaky. Ron could feel the jagged brick digging into his forehead. He scrapped his head down, causing the wall to rub painfully against his skin. Blood trickled through the small gashes. He welcomed the pain, however small it was. He welcomed the blood that slowly dripped down his face. The slight sting helped him to regain his control. Calm his racing heart.

Looking over at Faith he saw that she was still sitting on the bed. He wiped his forehead against his right hand. The wound on his right hand stung as it rubbed against his skin. Faith's arm perfectly echoed his. The dark mark stained her arm as well. She looked at him and gave a weak smile. He appreciated her attempt to act like things were okay, but it wasn't that convincing.

He sat down again beside her.

Ron's forehead had already stopped bleeding. Faith took his cracked knuckles into her hand. She grabbed her used bandages and pressed them to his wound. Not the most sanitary, but he didn't much care. She was practically family, and what were some used bandages exchanged between comrades? They'd shared worst things in the past, or would that be the future? He shook his head to clear the thought.

"It'll be okay," Faith reassured.

Ron remained silent. He wanted to believe that she was right. That everything would be okay, but her words seemed to fall flat.

"We've already spent years living with the mark," she continued in a level voice.

Ron's voice was quiet and thick with anxiety. "How can I even look at Harry?"

"I'm sure that he if he knew the situation," she said. "Knew the circumstances; he would understand."

"Understand?" Ron's voice hitched. "What is there to understand? Faith, I've betrayed him."

"In order to survive," she stated calmly.

"I shouldn't have let it happen!" Ron shrieked, wanting to throw something else.

"And then what? Died because you couldn't do what was needed to live?" Faith pressed. "Harry will understand."

Ron shook his head.

"No he won't," Ron heaved, pulling his hand away from Faith. "I should have done what was right! I should have died for what I believed in!"

"Don't be stupid," Faith snarled. "What good would you have done dead? Haunted Death Eaters? Look, I've done a shit load of things that I'm not proud of and I might not want the dark mark, but I know that it was the right decision. We can do a hell of a lot more fighting against Voldemort alive then dead."

It hurt to hear but Ron knew that Faith was right.

Lowering his head between his legs, he drew a deep breathe. He had made the decision to get the dark mark years ago. And while he was never at peace with it, he'd convinced himself that it was for the greater good.

Life without the dark mark under Voldemort's reign had been practically impossible. The mark was supposed to be visible at all times. Without it, one was sentenced to the camps. A glamour couldn't properly pass for the dark mark. The mark tainted those it stained, like a disfiguring scar. False marks didn't give off the same negative aura as the real ones. Unmarked people stood out like a sore thumb.

There had been heated discussion about how to handle this problem. Rupert Giles had insisted that in order to survive they needed to get branded. He had said that the resistance was useless if all it could do was hide. Minerva McGonagall had stood on the opposite side of the debate. She had said that it went against everything that the Order fought for. That if they got the dark mark they would be no better then the Death Eaters. Ron had agreed with McGonagall.

Two mark bearers had been taken for testing. The first one had been a Death Eater, Theodore Nott. The other man had been nothing more than a common citizen. Ron didn't remember the man's name and quite frankly was glad that he didn't. It sickened him to think about what had happened to him. While Nott had deserved everything, the bystander had not.

Giles had been in charge of this special project. Ron had tried to stay as far away as possible from the experiment. Listening to the progress reports had been difficult enough; he did not want to see what Giles had done in order to obtain the information. It was frightening enough to see Giles' mask of calm when he explained the results of his test. It had seemed that there were two types of marks that branded the populace. The first dark mark was what was given to his loyal followers, his Death Eaters. This was the mark that the Order was most familiar with. With it, Voldemort could summon, identify and locate his Death Eaters. However he couldn't give this mark to everyone, and reserved it for those that were his most faithful followers. What he used for the lower minions was a simpler version of the spell. The new mark was not directly connected to Voldemort. Instead it was similar to branding a cow.

The decision had been made and it had been one of the most difficult decisions of Ron's life. The Order would get the dark mark.

Harry hadn't been there to see Ron's shame; to see his betrayal.

Ron had just felt lucky that Harry would never have to see what had been done. What his own best friend had done.

Not anymore though, and he couldn't let Harry ever find out.

There wasn't any way known that could remove the dark mark.

"We're going to need some Skin-o-Graft to hide the mark," Ron said quietly, he needed to think rationally. Skin-o-Graft was used to cover up scars and other blemishes. It was more useful than a glamour, which would have to be renewed every twenty-four hours. Once applied, the Skin-o-Graft would stay in place for nine days.

"I'm already ahead of ya," Faith voice caused Ron to look up. "I grabbed some before I picked you up from school."

Ron had to admit that he was a bit surprised by her forethought. It must have shown on his face.

"Give me some credit," she smiled. "I do know how to plan ahead."

"Where is it?" he stood up, anxious to hide his disgrace.

"In my bag," she nodded to the left corner where it sat. "Front pocket."

Ron rushed over to her bag and rummaged until he found the small box. Taking the box with him to the bathroom, he turned on the tap. First he rinsed the blood off of his right hand. The blood had stopped running by now. A glance in the mirror showed that he had some blood also on his forehead. After rinsing that off as well, he turned his attention to the Skin-o-Graft.

Ron took out a strip that was two inches wide and six inches long. He quickly realized that he needed at least two strips to cover up his arm. Mindlessly, he soaked the strips in water for twenty seconds and then applied them to an area of unblemished skin on his chest. They needed to sit there for a minimum of five seconds to take on the characteristics of his base skin. The longer, the better match they became to the real thing. He waited a good minute before he moved them to cover up the mark. A quick trace with his fingers around the edges pushed the patches into his skin. It took another few second for the outside edge to dissipate until he could hardly tell there was anything there at all. His thoughts once again took a painful turn to Harry. The first time he had seen it used was to hide Harry's scar.

Although the Skin-o-Graft covered the dark mark, Ron didn't feel any better.

In fact, he was feeling even worse.

How could Faith be handling this so well when he felt like he was going barmy?

It was terrible.

He had been through some appalling shite before. During the war he had seen some dreadful things, but he had always been able to get through it.

Ron splashed some more cold water onto his face and looked into the mirror.

He was reacting like he would when he was a teenager.

Afraid.

Unsure.

Anxious.

Merlin, he was even horny at inappropriate times again.

He really was sixteen once more.

"How come you're handling this so well?" he asked Faith from the bathroom.

"I've had a few more days to deal with it," she her voice was light, but there was a slight quiver in it.

Ron snorted.

"I'm also older and wiser," Faith continued. "Not to mention that at this time in my life I've dealt with more shit then you. If I was transported to my sixteen year old body, I'd probably be freaking out worse then you are now."

Ron stared down at his hands that grasped the edge of the sink. He thought that he knew what Faith was alluding to. At the age of sixteen Ron has not killed. He had not fought in battles against demons or Death Eaters. At the age of sixteen Ron was a completely different person. If he really had merged with his younger self, then he would have parts of his teenage personality with him again.

With the dark mark hidden, there wasn't any reason for him to stay in the bathroom. He returned to the bedroom and saw Faith finally putting on some pants. She then strolled over and opened what he realized was her backpack. Ron knew what she was digging around for before she found them. Faith gave a small shout of triumph as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter from a side pocket. Ron watched the flame as it flickered to life and consumed the tip of the Muggle smoking pipe. While he had tried the tobacco sticks that Faith was so fond of, he'd decided that they weren't exactly his cup of tea. Honestly, wizarding tobacco was far superior. However, he'd learned long ago not to argue this point with Faith. She wouldn't listen to any of it.

"Could you at least open a window or something," he requested, crinkling his nose at the smoke and smell.

Faith rolled her eyes but honored his request nonetheless. She leaned against the sill and looked out at the view of a back alley.

"So? How exactly should we proceed from here?" Ron asked, needing to be productive. He couldn't waste any more time wallowing around in his thoughts. They were a mess he simply wasn't willing to deal with right now.

She seemed to take her sweet time pondering as she puffed away on her fag. While it looked like she wasn't paying him any attention, he knew otherwise. Faith prided herself on being an unreadable hard arse. She liked to have people never know what she was thinking. But Ron had known and fought beside her for years. They'd planned battles and raids together, hunted Death Eaters and been a thorn in Voldemort's side. She had even gotten him his first sword. Dawn had told him that it was a big thing and then burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. Actually, now that he thought about it a bit more, a lot of the slayers had laughed at him when they'd found out. Something about his current sword being too small . . . oh bugger. Stupid girls.

"Fuck, I need a drink," Faith finally said and stalked over to the dresser against the wall. Ron hadn't noticed the bottle of Fire Whiskey that sat there until she picked it up. She took a large swig directly out of the bottle. It was proof that she was taking this harder then she let on. While the two of them could argue about cigarettes and wizarding tobacco till they were blue, the superiority of Fire Whiskey was something they both agreed on. "You want some?"

Faith held the bottle out to him and he took it. The alcohol burned his throat as he chugged down huge swallows. His head was already getting lighter as the drink took effect. He was reminded that at the age of sixteen, his body was not used to Fire Whiskey. It even seemed to taste different. Faith pulled the bottle out of his hand and took another swig.

"So," Faith said as she gave the bottle back to Ron. "No use in moping about this shit anymore. We might as well talk about what the hell we're going to do next."

Ron snorted into the bottle against his lips, "Why am I not surprised that you can put it so simply?"

Faith smiled at him, "Nice statement coming from you."

"Oh come on, I am not that simple," he defended almost spitting out a mouthful. "I think things through."

"Right," Faith shook her head. "Like the time that you went charging into a Death Eater stronghold in order to get Hermione out?"

"I wasn't just going to let her be tortured like that when I could have helped."

"Helped, yeah right," Faith snorted. "From what I remember you were critically injured and out of commission for a month. Hermione was so pissed at you for being an idiot and ruining her perfect escape plan that she wouldn't talk to you until two weeks after you had recovered."

Ron glared at her as she snagged the bottle out of his hands. He would not say that she was right. He was perfectly capable of thinking and planning ahead.

"Quite changing the subject," he moped. "We were talking about what we were going to do next."

Faith grinned, obviously thinking that she had won. "We need to find the Horcruxes before we can kill Voldemort, right?"

Ron proceeded to count the off the objects with his fingers while still enjoying the buzzing in his head, "Precisely. First there's the diary, which Harry already took care of. Then we have the ring which Dumbledore destroys in around a year from now. And, um there's the cup and the locket both retrieved during our seventh year. Next we have the snake and of course there's Voldemort himself. And we can't forget the one that we never identified."

He was almost sure that Faith had heard the list before.

"Ah yes, the unidentified Horcrux," Faith responded.

"Bloody infuriating it is," Ron moaned in frustration.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

Ron only wondered who it could be for a second before he heard the intruder's voice.

"Hey it's me, Willow!" her voice was way too chipper for the time. "You two up yet?"

"Yeah," Faith answered, her voice decidedly less enthusiastic. "Come on in."

Willow cracked the door open and peeked her head through.

She smiled widely as she looked into the room. Her smile faltered as she looked at the bottle in Faith's hands.

"Have you been drinking?" Her mouth gaped as Faith unsuccessfully tried to hide the whiskey behind her back. "It's only nine o'clock in the morning!"

Faith sputtered a bit and looked at Ron out of the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, Willow's gaze turned towards him as well.

"Don't tell me that you have been drinking as well!" she crossed her arms. "You're not even of age!"

"Wizards come of age when they are seventeen," he retorted. Honestly, there were a lot of privileges he would miss now that he was no longer twenty-six.

"Are you seventeen?" Willow questioned.

"Um, kind of?" he fumbled. "Technically only my body is underage."

Willow shook her head at them, "You two are unbelievable."

"Oh come on, give us a break Red," Faith moaned. "It's been a really shitty week. I think we have the right to a drink or two."

Willow walked up to Faith and snatched the bottle away.

"No more," Willow demanded, putting the bottle back onto the dresser. "I don't need you two trashed while we talk about what the hell is going on."

As Willow continued to glare at him, Ron remembered that he was still shirtless. He tried to fight back the blush, but it was hopeless. He really hated being this age. Grabbing the white shirt off of the floor, he hastily tossed it on.

"Have you guys had anything for breakfast beside alcohol?" Willow asked, turning her glare to Faith. "Cause I am starving."

"Food would be cool," Faith shrugged. "But, before we order I should probably introduce you two again now that Ron is feeling better. Ron, this is Willow. Willow, Ron."

"Thank you," Ron said to Willow, ducking his head in an attempt to hide his obvious embarrassment. "For your contributions in making me well. Um… How long was I out anyway?"

"Two days," Faith said.

"Fixing you was a bit more complicated then it was with Faith," Willow explained. "Your mind was in more disarray then I had expected."

Ron took a moment to study Willow. Healthy was the best way to describe how she looked. Willow had always been stressed to the point where she looked almost ten years older. Her eyes had been hard and she rarely smiled. Ron preferred the Willow that was currently before him.

"Not too much trouble I hope?" Ron said, very curious about it. His memories from his stay at the hospital were blurred and mashed as if someone had stuck them in a blender.

"Don't worry," Faith reassured, "nothing that Willow couldn't handle."

"I hope you don't mind but I did have to remove your shirt to write some runes on your chest," Willow half apologized, before adding. "I didn't have to do that with Faith."

Ron shook his head, "No need to justify it to me."

Willow smiled at him before turning to say something else to Faith. Her mouth opened, but the words paused as she noticed the slayer's arm.

"Faith, what's that on your arm? When did you get a tattoo?"

Faith's eyes widened as she hastily hid her arm behind her back. The tactic was as useful as it was with the bottle of Fire Whiskey.

"It's nothing," she muttered off-handedly.

"Nothing?" Willow doubted. "Really, because if it was nothing I don't think that you would be hiding it. Isn't that the arm that was all bandaged up?"

"Um," was all Faith could get out. Ron was relieved that he'd had the foresight to cover his up right away.

Willow walked over to the other girl and held her hand out expectantly. Faith glared, but it was a lost cause. She had already botched up her reaction and tipped off Willow that something more was going on.

With a roll of her eyes, she presented her arm to Willow.

"See, it's no biggy," she replied trying to salvage what she could. "It's just your normal tattoo."

"I've seen this before," Willow spoke to herself quietly. Ron felt himself pale. Of course Willow had seen the dark mark before. How could she not have after spending all of that time in their minds?

Willow lightly traced her finger around the snake weaving out of the skull's mouth.

"Faith," Willow said, her eyes still fixed on the tattoo. "This contains some very dark magic. How did you get it?"

Faith gave Ron a hesitant glance.

He was painfully reminded that it was also on his arm.

Willow realized that Faith was no longer with her and turned her attention to Ron.

"What the hell have you two gotten yourself into?" Willow almost shrieked, her fingers tightening their hold on Faith's arm.

"Willow," Faith replied. "Just calm down, please?"

"Calm down?" Willow exclaimed, getting even more riled up. "I think I've been pretty calm so far. I didn't freak out a week ago when I arrived to find Faith screaming her head off. I didn't freak out when Faith insisted on going to London. I didn't freak out when she informed me of a secret wizarding society that apparently we were not allowed into, but went anyway. I didn't freak out when she came back to the hotel room dragging a kid behind her telling me that we need to _fix_ him. And then, I discovered that his mind was in worse shape than Faith's, and I still didn't freak out! I think, that I'm allowed to freak out now!"

Willow's progressively louder voice had turned frantic by the end.

"Do you two have any idea of how hard it's been to remain calm all of this time? To have everything that I saw in Faith's head repeated in yours? Do you know how horrifying it is to see those things and yet not know what they mean? I'm done being calm and now I want some answers! Not the watered down crap that Faith has been giving me these past couple days, but the complete, honest to God truth of what the hell is going on here!"

Faith and Ron were silent as Willow ended her tirade. Ron had no idea how to respond to all of her questions.

Hesitantly, Ron turned his attention away from the still fuming Willow to Faith. Faith's mouth was moving as if she was trying to form a response, but no words were coming out. Ron knew he was probably thinking the same thing as Faith. What could they afford to tell Willow?

Ron was unsure as to how much Faith had already confided in the girl. Really, Ron was still adjusting to everything. While Ron knew that he could not tell Harry and Hermione, Willow was a different story. Her demands to be told the truth were something that Ron could understand. If their situations were reversed, he knew that he would be acting the same way. It sounded like Willow had been handling everything remarkably well up to this point. He wasn't surprised that it had only taken one more thing to send her off the deep end. Ron was a man who relied on his instincts and they were telling him to allow Willow into loop. He wasn't sure if he could tell her everything that was going on, but he would let her in on the most vital information.

He made his way to the chair next to the bed. On the back of the chair hung Faith's leather jacket. Sitting down, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and began to compose what he wanted to say to Willow. He knew he wasn't exactly the most eloquent person, and he'd probably make a complete mess of everything if he wasn't careful.

Opening his eyes, he looked over to Faith. The encouraging smile on her face told him that it was his decision whether to tell Willow. Ron nodded at Faith only to have her nod back.

"Okay," Ron said letting out a deep breath.

"You sure Freckles?" asked Faith. "It is more of your story than mine."

"I'm positive," he replied.

Faith smiled.

Willow's face broke into a grin and a fire entered her eyes. She looked as eager as a small child with a bag of galleons. In Zonko's.

"Faith told you about You-Know-Who right?" Ron asked Willow. The Dark Lord was the best place to start.

"Who?" Willow asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"Voldemort," Faith looked at Ron. "You can say his name. The track hasn't been added to it yet, right?"

"Um, I don't think so," he replied. "But I honestly can't be sure when it was put in place."

"I've heard of Voldemort," Willow replied obviously a bit oblivious. "He's responsible for the next big apocalypse, right? Why do you call him You-Know-Who."

"It's a stupid wizard superstition," Faith replied. "The locals are afraid to say his name."

"With good reason," Ron interrupted. "By saying his name, You-Know-Who can track down your location."

"Yeah, but you said he can't do that right now, right?" Faith contradicted. "No need to confuse the girl anymore than she already will be with this You-Know-Who crap."

Ron frowned at her.

"Besides," Faith smiled. "Just call him by his proper name, the Douche Lord."

Ron let out a snort at Faith's favorite nick name for the guy. She had even called him it to his face once before. Ron had the feeling that the Dark Lord had had no idea what a douche was, but he seemed to get the insult none-the-less.

"Back on topic," Willow said ignoring Faith's foul mouth. "What about this Voldemort guy?"

"Faith and I are here to kill him," Ron watched Willow's eyes widen. Maybe he was a bit too blunt by saying that, but there wasn't really a nice way to put it.

"Okay," Willow said slowly sitting down on the bed. "Faith had said something like that before, but she also said that she wasn't sure how she was going to do that."

"That's only partially true," he said, unsure of how to bring up the next part. Technically, Voldemort was still a human, and he knew that Willow had issues with killing humans. In fact, most of the slayers also had issues with killing anything that wasn't demon. Stupid really, when humans could be just as vicious. "We know how to kill him, but are missing one key factor in making it work."

"Which is?" Willow pressed.

"You're going to need to explain a little bit more about Voldie in order for her to understand everything," Faith said.

"You're right," Ron made a face as he thought about how to explain the Dark Lord to someone who didn't have the slightest clue about him. He really didn't want to give a complete history lesson. After all he was dismal when it came to that subject. "Voldemort has been terrorizing the British wizarding community for decades. Around fourteen years ago, he tried to kill someone only to have his curse backfire and destroy him instead. Most wizards believed that they had heard the last of the Dark Lord but in reality he was searching for way to revive himself."

Ron paused to watch Willow as she listened intensely. She seemed to be having no problems taking it all in. Well, if he remembered correctly, wizarding history had always fascinated her.

"About a year ago now," he continued. "He succeeded in transplanting his soul into a new body."

Willow paled and her freckles stood out in sharp relief.

"Soul magic is incredibly dark," she said mostly to herself.

Ron had heard tales of Willow's descent into darkness. In fact, she had almost fallen into that pit again during the battle with Voldemort's forces. If she said it was incredibly dark, then it was.

"Anyway, we know what we need to do in order to kill him," Ron said, trying to figure out just how much to say. "There are certain objects that we need to find that he linked his soul to. And once we destroy these objects, we can kill Voldemort once and for all."

Willow frowned and Ron could practically see her thoughts running through her head. She was silent as she pondered what she was going to say, her mouth tightening further as time went on. He wasn't quite sure as to what he should say next. So, instead he waited for Willow to say something. Sparing a glance at Faith, he saw that she was watching Willow as well. Faith turned her gaze back to him and gave an encouraging smile. She seemed to be giving him a lot of those this morning and he was thankful for it.

"So, here's what I don't understand," Willow broke his thoughts. "Faith said that she was given this task through a vision, but what about you? I've now seen snapshot of both of your minds and there is no way that either of you had a vision of these events. These so called visionary images that you two have seen are way too personal. It was as if I saw bits of your life flashing before my eyes. I thought that at first it might be some type of freaky experience with Faith but then it was the same with you. I've been around enough visions to know that they are cryptic, brief, and never give exact answers to your problems. If I hadn't been in both of your minds, then maybe I would have bought it. But the two of you have seen way too much of this supposed future and understand way more than you should. Now, it doesn't mean that I don't agree that this Voldemort guy is evil, if any of what I saw in your mind is true then, yes, he needs to be stopped. But what I really want to know is the truth as to how you know all of this."

Ron didn't know that Faith had attributed her mission as a vision. He hadn't quite decided what he was going to say to the others. The vision excuse was actually a decent idea, but it obviously hadn't work with Willow. But that didn't necessarily mean that it wouldn't work on others.

He turned his attention to Faith. Sometime during his explanation she had lit up another Muggle smoking stick. She normally didn't smoke this many in the morning unless she was stressed out about something. He supposed this was as good of a time as any to be stressing out. She leaned against the window and turned her attention to him. They sat in silence for a few seconds; she was obviously giving him permission to respond to the question.

Ron took a deep breath. Why was he telling her instead of Faith?

"Why am I telling her?" he asked Faith, his curiosity getting the better of him. "She knows you better; shouldn't you be the one to say something?"

"Maybe," Faith said. "But the wizarding world belongs to you more then it does to me. You understand it a hell of a lot more then I ever will."

"Hey, I'm sitting right here," Willow interrupted.

"Before I say anything else Willow," Ron tried to communicate the severity of the situation. "I, no, we need you to promise not to speak a word to anybody. There are people who would imprison us for what we've done."

Willow looked back and forth between Ron and Faith. She bit her bottom lip before saying, "Just how illegal is it?"

"Um, in the wizarding world – very illegal," Ron replied. "A one way ticket to Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Willow asked, once again confused.

"Wizarding prison," Faith explained.

Ron watched Willow think about her answer. Her gaze kept darting between Faith and Ron. Ron knew that she was deciding whether she really wanted to know the answers that he would give her. He didn't think that Willow was squeamish about breaking the law, but rather she wasn't sure about keeping whatever she found out a secret.

"I promise you that I won't tell anyone," Willow finally replied, her jaw set firmly in place.

Ron took a deep breath and gave Faith one last quick glance.

She smiled at him encouragingly, again. Really, why did he have to be the one to spill the beans?

"We're from the future," he rushed out, certain that there was no way for this not to sound absolutely mental.

"What?" Willow asked in a voice that seemed highly doubtful.

"The future," he restated.

Willow snapped her partially open mouth shut.

"Seriously?"

Ron nodded.

"But how?" she asked. "I mean, Faith, you look exactly the same since the last time I saw you. How can you be from the future? Shouldn't you be older or something?"

"The spell transported our souls back in time," Faith responded. "At least that's what we think happened. That's why we were both so messed up. We couldn't sort out our own memories."

"How are you even sure that the spell worked?" Willow asked in disbelief. "This is just unprecedented. I mean, time travel. And we're not talking about a couple of days, we're talking about years! Just how many years exactly did you travel?"

"Ten," Faith replied.

"And you're sure it worked? Absolutely sure?" Willow asked again.

"We're sure."

"How can you be so sure?" Willow pressed them both.

Faith gritted her teeth, "Because I am. Hell, I might not exactly know how the spell works but I do know that it did exactly what it was supposed to do."

Willow frowned, "It's not that I don't believe that you're telling the truth. It's just that what you believe happened to you might be wrong. It could be anything messing with your minds."

"Then how do you explain how she found me?" Ron questioned. "She didn't just pull my location out of her arse. I know that it seems a bit wonky. And I am sorry, really I am, that I can't explain how it worked better. It was a spell that you designed, with the help of two others; that allowed us to travel through time. It's magical theory that's a little over my head."

"I helped design it?" Willow was astonished. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with a spell like that. I mean, the amount of magical energy needed would be astronomical!"

"It was," replied Ron. "We spent almost a year doing preparations alone for it."

"Tell me about the spell used to take you here," Willow practically demanded, an academic light coming to her eyes.

"Look Willow, we are wasting time," Faith interjected. "It won't be too long before Freckle's Order comes looking for him and I'd rather not meet them quite yet."

"Faith is right," Ron agreed. "The Order would have started looking for me as soon as they realized I was gone. Faith and I still need to come up with some sort of plan to deal with Voldemort."

Willow crossed her arms and frowned. A determined look set in her eyes.

Ron resisted the urge to sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot this morning.

"I'll explain the details of the spell once, and then we need to move on. Or at least I'll try to," Ron figured that he would be able to blunder his way through it. Although, it would more than likely be a little sad. "Just keep your questions to a minimal, and when I say that it's time to move on, we move on. Agreed?"

Willow hesitated only for a second before saying, "Agreed."

Ron had never been very good at spell theory, better then Faith but still not very good. The worst part was while he understood what went into the spell; he had no clue as to why it worked. He really needed Hermione or Willow to explain the spell. Well, the Hermione or Willow from ten years later. Unfortunately he really was the best person to explain what had happened. Bugger, hopefully he wouldn't muck this up. The last thing he needed was an angry, frustrated Willow.

"The spell called on the God Amot, the God of universal truth and justice," he began. "The Egyptian God of balance. He was chosen because the balance in this dimension was thrown so far out of proportion. The spell was designed to draw its power from an entity not contained within space or time or even dimensions. By harnessing the power of this entity we were able to send a part of us through time to help fix the balance."

Ron looked over to Faith to see how he was doing so far. She carefully avoided his gaze. She was probably already lost.

"The balance? Isn't that supposed to naturally fix its self," Willow said to no one in particular. "What entity did you use and how do you know that it was safe? I'm sorry but I have a hard time trusting higher powers and such. Most of the time, they just want to do what's best for themselves. How do you know what you are even supposed to do now that you are back? Fixing the balance is sort of vague. How do you even know that it needs fixing anyway? How do you know that it even will be worth it? You might screw up everything more then it already was."

Willow was repeating all of the questions that had ran through Ron's head at some point in time. These were questions that they had debated over and over while discussing the original spell, and had never really answered. But despite all of the talk and doubts that they had before going through with the plan, Ron knew that they had done the right thing. There was no way that they could have sat around and watched what little was left of the world crumble when they could do something about it. Surprisingly, Dawn was also very adamant about going forward with the spell. Perhaps, because she was the Key she understood something about time that escaped the rest of them. But she insisted that they would succeed. Willow had been hesitant about what the spell would do to Dawn, but Dawn had just smiled and told her not to worry- that she would be perfectly fine. Dawn had remained strong even after they'd lost Willow. She'd insisted that they go forward with Bill taking her place.

Ron wasn't quite sure how to answer all of her questions, but he needed to try to make her understand.

"You saw what we lived through," Faith cut in. "Our dimension had successfully been turned into a hell dimension. There was no hope in it setting itself right again, someone had to do something and that someone was us."

"We all believed that the sacrifice was worth it," Ron added, feeling his voice heat up with emotion. "We were willing to destroy the current time line, and that was not a decision we made lightly. Think about this, there was no way we could force you to do a spell of that magnitude. Even if there was some way that we both really are insane, and all of this is in our heads, the actions that we are going to take would be worth it. Voldemort is a psychopath bent on ruling the wizarding world and destroying the Muggle one. So, even if Voldemort decides not to create a hell on earth and we have been hallucinating all of this, I know that Voldemort is not in my mind and that he needs to be stopped. He is very real and very much a threat."

Ron took a deep breath and concentrated on Willow's expression. He knew that this seemed practically impossible, and his muddled up explanations hadn't helped. Merlin, if he wasn't so directly involved, he wouldn't have believed it either. Even with all of the bizarre explanations he'd thought up before Willow had fixed him, this scenario had never even remotely come up. Willow gazed past Faith and into the morning light outside the window. Her lips were tight and eyes unfocused. He knew that she was contemplating every thing that he had just said.

At last Willow nodded at Ron.

"I need a little more time to think about this," Willow finally replied. "I'll have a few more questions later, but for now you and Faith can talk about whatever plans that you need to make."

"Thank you," Ron really meant it too. Having Willow in their corner could be a huge help. "Take as much time as you need to think this through."

"Yeah," Faith added, having now finished her second cigarette of the morning. "Thanks Red for considering this. It means a lot."

The three of them remained silent for a few minutes.

Personally, Ron let his thoughts wander to the Horcruxes and where the last one could be located. He would have guessed that Faith had her mind on the same topic. Willow, on the other hand, was probably pondering the information that he had just told her.

Faith had relocated to the bath and was brushing her teeth. Ron had left the Skin-o-Graft on the sink counter for her to use. He had no doubt that she would make use of it now. She finished with her teeth and shut the door.

Willow watched the door close, and then turned her attention back to Ron. She was studying him carefully. He didn't mind though, and knew that she just needed time to think about all of the information that was running through her head.

Faith came out of the wash room and gave a tall stretch. The dark mark was now covered. Her shoulders gave a sharp crack and she sighed in relief. Willow's nose wrinkled in disgust at the noise. Faith made her way back to the same window sill from before and leaned against it.

"So," Faith started. "What Ravenclaw objects had you three checked out?"

It was good that someone wanted to talk about the important things.

In the past…er…future, Faith had not been involved in the Horcrux hunt. Once the war had become full blown, the hunt had unfortunately been put on the backburner. All she'd really heard were stories and was told along with the Order that any chance that they got, she should kill Nagini.

"None yet," he answered regretfully. "We never found anything of hers that would have survived."

"Well, that sucks," Faith said. "How did you even locate the other Horcruxes in the first place?"

"Luck and Dumbledore," Ron scratched his head and a sad smile. "No wonder we had some many sodding problems once he died."

"What are Horcruxes?" Willow asked.

"The objects that Voldemort put his soul into," Faith responded for Ron.

"Oh," Willow said. "Where did you find the other objects?"

"In areas that held a special place in the Douche Lord's heart. Someplace where he deemed them safe," Ron replied with a twist of his mouth.

He could tell that Willow knew that there was more to what he said then he was letting on. She stared at him for a minute before looking away. She had obviously decided to let what Ron had left unsaid slide for the moment. He knew that it wouldn't be long before she would demand more answers.

"So what we need are places and people that the Douche Lord would leave the last Horcrux with," Faith asked. He appreciated her focus on the task at hand. "Lucius who was in charge of the diary was one of his more trusted minions. I can hardly see him leaving anything of value with any of the other morons in his inner circle."

"Bellatrix was in Azkaban for years, she only just broke out this past season," Ron muttered, trying to keep his timeline straight.

"What about Ollivander?" Faith suggested. "He's done a good job of remaining inconspicuous over the years. He could easily be holdin' for Voldemort."

"Perhaps," muttered Ron, picturing the evil man in his mind.

Willow who had been sitting silently on the bed perked her head up. She gazed at the doorway hard, as if she were looking through it. As her head tilted slightly to the right, she rose to her feet.

"Someone just placed a powerful spell around the building," she said warily. "I'm not sure what it's supposed to do."

"It must be the Order," Ron stood. "You two have to get out of here."

"I was wondering when they'd show up. I have to say though; I was expecting it to be sometime yesterday." Faith spoke to no one in particular.

Ron shrugged, "We must have just got lucky. It would be best if you didn't meet them right now, awkward questions and such."

It was impressive that Willow was able to feel the ward pop up. He tuned into his magic to feel the different spells being used in the vicinity. It was tiring and completely useless in battle. But a scouting mission was different. With this trick he could detect and identify a vast amount of different wards. It took longer then normal for his sixteen year old body to sense what Willow had felt. At this age, he was surprised to feel anything at all. He knew that he would have a massive headache later from the complex magic.

"It's an anti-apparation ward," he said. "We need to get you out of here. We have a few minutes until they get here. They won't have expected us to have realized that they put up wards."

"Willow, grab your stuff," Faith ordered. "Quickly."

"Guess that means breakfast is out of the question," Willow muttered as she rushed back to her room.

Faith was practically a blur as she crammed all of her stuff into her duffle bag.

Ron grabbed his wand and stepped out into the hall. He needed to give them more time. Grabbing a flower out of a vase against the wall, he walked towards the hallway entrance. With a simple spell, he transfigured the flower into a piece of chalk. He scrawled a line across the hard wood floor and followed it with three small runes. Another skill that he was thankful he'd picked up. It was a basic spell, but hopefully it would give pause to the Order members coming.

"Munio," he said and watched the barrier dart up. He thought if they were lucky it might give them an extra five minutes.

He re-entered the room to see that she had successfully shoved everything back into her duffle.

"You only have a few minutes to get out of here before the Order gets through the spell I left for them," Ron said and handed her the leather jacket from the back of the chair.

"Thanks," Faith replied.

Willow came back in carrying a backpack.

"Where are all of your books?" Faith asked.

"I shrunk them and stuck them in my pocket," Willow said. She turned to Ron. "I felt another spell go up."

"That was me," Ron said as he walked toward the window. "The anti-apparation ward will stop you two from transporting out. You'll have to go out through the window."

"It will?" Willow asked, once more fascinated. "How do you know that?"

Ron really didn't have time to explain, so he just shrugged.

"No time Wills," Faith said. "I'll explain later."

Willow looked as if she was going to say something more, but she closed her mouth and looked at Faith with a pout.

Faith went over to the already open window and looked down into the street.

"How can I contact you?" Faith asked as she straddled the ledge and dropped her bag into the alleyway below.

"Owl me," Ron replied, "but you'll have to write in code. Umbridge reads our mail. Sign it from my cousin Susan, she lives in France. Then if the cow reads any of the letters, at least she won't question who they're from."

"Sure thing," Faith looked down to the ground. "I'll keep in touch."

And with her last words she jumped.

Willow went to the window after her and looked to the ground below.

"You know Faith," she called down. "You might be able to leap down from a second story but I sure can't."

"I'll catch you," Ron heard Faith reply. "Throw me you bag first."

It looked like Willow chucked her bag at Faith rather then let it drop. Ron heard a dramatic 'umph' from below.

"Um, it was nice meeting you, Ron" Willow said, then turned her attention to the window and muttered. "Wish me luck."

Ron watched as Willow followed suit and leaped out of the window.

He turned his attention back to the front door. Muttering a short spell, he cleared the room of any remnants that the two girls left behind. Last thing he needed was someone to find a hair that belonged to Faith. The longer Faith and Willow remained unidentified, the better. Ron only hoped that Willow did the same in her room.

Whoever was coming to return him to Hogwarts should be breaking through the shield any moment now. And while he wasn't exactly sure as to what he was going to say to Harry, Hermione, or Dumbledore for that matter, he knew that he would think of something. It was going to be difficult. He might be feeling better then he had all week, but he knew that the moment he saw his friends he would fall to pieces all over again. Without Faith, he was painfully reminded that he would have to deal with his issues alone. Neither Harry nor Hermione would be ready for the truth. Perhaps he'd say that he was having visions like Faith originally told Willow. It would be hard; he hated lying, especially to his two closest friends. But telling them could be even more disastrous then not. If Ron had his way, his friends would never find out about their horrible futures. And he would save them all.

Top of Form


	7. Conversations

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N:** A huge thank you to all of those who nominated me for the COAs. I am thrilled and privileged to be up for _Best Unfinished Crossover (Harry Potter)_!

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**Mein Teil**

Chapter 6: Conversations

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It wasn't that Faith didn't want to speak with Giles, it was just. . . .Well, she didn't want to talk to the man. Unfortunately, the conversation was one that she knew she wouldn't be able to get out of. After all, she was the one who barged into his office unannounced. Giles' office was large, but full of a lot of books. There were books everywhere – on every shelf, table, ledge and stacked in piles along side of the wall. He needed a few more bookcases. Surprisingly though, it wasn't messy. 

She was currently sitting in a tan colored arm chair that had she dragged over to his desk.

"Now Faith," Giles said, sitting down at his desk. It was mahogany, old, and cluttered with papers, books, and odd looking artifacts. She was briefly tempted to pick up an odd looking paperweight, when he pulled her attention back to him. "While I really would like to hear about what happened to you over the last week and not to mention why you are in London, I have a pressing matter that needs my attention. So, perhaps we can have this conversation in a few hours time."

She recognized the polite dismissal and ignored it, rearranging her legs so that they were propped up on his desk. Oh, she had an idea about what this pressing 'matter' was. She'd wandered in that morning looking for Giles, and had been told that he was in his office with an important guest. She'd been more than surprised when an old geezer dressed as Gandalf the Grey had walked out the door in a flurry of robes and a strong scent of lemon. Her mouth had dropped before she'd been able to stop herself. Faith knew a wizard when she saw one, and this had been a wizard – and a powerful one at that. While she had never met the Headmaster of Hogwarts, she had a pretty good idea of what he looked liked. And this guy had fit the description perfectly.

It had been difficult for her to fight the instinct to fidget like a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. With only a small twitch of her left foot, she had looked at the old man like he was crazy and hoped like hell he hadn't seen her first reaction. With Dumbledore though, she wouldn't be shocked if he had.

And, to top it all off, she had told him that she had liked his threads.

Dumbledore had smiled back at her and uttered a thank you before walking around a corner and out of sight- whether or not he had had any idea what exactly 'threads' were, she had no idea.

Faith was already beginning to regret her decision to leave a Watcher's Council card with the Headmaster. Really though, what else could she have done? In front of her, Giles shuffled through a desk draw, probably looking to find some document that would help him track down who had been at Hogwarts. She had a feeling he was shitting a brick trying figure out who the hell had the gall to enter the wizarding world and leave a little 'hello' with one of the most powerful wizards who ever lived. She was kind of surprised that he hadn't already realized that it was her. But then again, Giles was a bit frazzled.

It almost made Faith smile. Instead, she scratched at the back of her head and examined a wall.

"Ah, yeah," she said. "About that pressing matter. . . ."

Faith let the words die off.

Slowly, Giles shut the drawer and looked back up to Faith. He crossed his arms and frowned, his gaze studying her as if she were a small insect. She couldn't help but think he looked like a pissed-off librarian attempting to discipline a student who'd been talking too loudly.

There was no need for him to say anything, his thoughts were written all over his face.

"Okay, so don't get mad because I didn't have much choice in the matter," Even Faith knew that was a lame beginning. "You see, Dumbledore might have been here because of me."

"Oh dear Lord," Giles sighed, and looked to the ceiling as if he were about to pray. "Faith, do you have any idea of what you have gotten yourself into? Of how much trouble that you have caused?"

"Of course I do," Faith replied, indignant. "But I had someone I needed to talk to at Hogwarts."

"Ron, oh yes, how could I forget the young man that you kidnapped." He slouched forward and rested his head in his hands.

"I didn't kidnap Ron!" Faith blurted out, peeved that he would automatically think the worst. Not that she blamed him.

Giles remained silent as he brought his gaze back to hers. Picking up his phone, he held up his palm to halt the question about to come from Faith.

She withheld her 'what the fuck' comment at his quiet request.

"Sarah," He spoke calmly to his secretary. "What time is my next appointment?"

Giles frowned at whatever her response was.

"I'm going to need you to reschedule that for a later date," he paused. "No, it doesn't matter, whatever date is open. Thank you."

Giles put the phone back down with a sharp click.

"I think that you need to explain from the beginning why you decided to create a colossal mess," Giles said.

"Slayer dream," Faith began her lie in a nonchalant voice, unsure if Giles would buy the bullshit that she was about to give him. But she was even more undecided if telling him the truth was anything but a terrible idea. It was kind of complicated to explain. "The dream contained a bit more information then the normal Slayer dreams. More like a series of visions and most of them revolved around the wizarding world."

"Visions?" Giles let the question hang in the air. He leaned forward, obviously interested.

"Yeah. Voldemort rising to power and eventually creating an apocalypse that fucks the world over a good one," Faith frowned. "It wasn't cryptic either. We lose, get our asses kicked, and the world gets fucked over."

Faith waited for a reply but none came. Giles motioned for her to continue.

"The wizarding world needs our help," she said, trying to decide exactly what to stress and what to downplay. "But you know that they aren't going to ask for shit. Hell, the Ministry of Magic wouldn't even admit that the _He's_ back. You do know who Voldemort is, right?"

"Voldemort," Giles stated. "He attempted to take over the Wizarding world fifteen or so years ago. I thought the man was dead."

"Not anymore," Faith said, slightly mad that the wizarding world was being so guarded on such a serious thing.

"Even if Voldemort isn't dead he is a problem for the British Ministry- not the Watcher's Council," Giles lectured. "Perhaps you do not understand the complex relationship that we have had for centuries. We are not allowed to interfere in wizarding affairs unless in an apocalyptic situations. This relationship was established for a reason-"

"Stop Giles," Faith interrupted. "Just stop. I understand why this is such a big deal. Really, I fucking get it. But this _is_ an apocalypse. It needs to be stopped before it goes spiraling out of control, which will happen about four years from now."

"The Ministry won't see it that way," Giles said. "Unless you can bring them proof that they consider solid, I can not allow you to go dallying about in Diagon Alley! You should have come to me Faith to discuss these visions first."

"I needed to get to Ron now! I couldn't wait for you to give me the go ahead."

"And in doing so you have created a huge political mess-"

"No I haven't!" Faith replied. "The fucking Ministry doesn't know shit that I was there. It's only Dumbledore and there is no fucking way he would go to a dick wad like Fudge. Shit Giles, where have you been? The Ministry of Magic is a fucking mess right now! Fudge is so convinced that Dumbledore is trying to overthrow him that he's acting like a fucking two year old! Fudge won't even acknowledge that Voldemort is back."

"Faith," Giles snapped at her sudden outburst. He suddenly looked much older than she knew he was. "There are procedures that need to be followed regardless of what you might think the end result will be."

"Which is why I didn't involve you in the first place," Faith explained. "I can get a lot more done without having to check with papa bear every ten fucking minutes. Maybe you should listen to what I saw first before you begin nagging my ear off."

Giles gaze was hard, and Faith ran a hand through her hair in a slightly nervous gesture. Giles was angry, that much was obvious. Faith knew that running the Council was stressful, but damn it, Giles needed to stop being so difficult. He was turning back into that stuffy tweed-loving librarian that he had been when she'd first met him. Then again, she did know that this wasn't an easy time in Giles' life. Not only did he have to get the Council back up and running, he also had to deal with political fallout. In the past, the Council hadn't really dealt with Muggle governments, only magical ones. But now, with so many slayers, politicians were getting concerned. Giles was trying to get everything under control before the entire thing blew up in his, and everybody's faces. Faith didn't envy the man and she certainly wasn't making it any easier for him.

"Giles," Faith pleaded. "I know that I'm not your golden child or anything, but you need to trust me on this. We are headed for some serious shit and we are going to get fucked over. What was I supposed to do? I knew that if I came to you, you'd tell me no. That you'd insist on looking into the matter instead of letting me act on my instincts. I needed to act. Ron had these visions too, and if I waited too long, then he would have been lost to them."

Giles stood up and began pacing.

"You should have came to me right away Faith."

This conversation was going in circles.

"I couldn't have waited any longer. Ron needed me now."

"Well, if the Council has to get involved in the wizarding world, there's going to be quite a few obstacles to overcome."

"I know," Faith nodded. "You don't need to involve the Council. I can do this on my own if needed."

Faith said the words, but didn't mean them. She did not want to do this without Giles behind her. Sure she had Ron, but it wasn't enough. She was a slayer with a job to do. Faith tried to suppress the thought that if it was Buffy standing in his office right now, in the position that Faith was in – Giles would be a hell of a lot more supportive.

Fuck, all of her slayer life had been spent living in the shadow of Buffy. Sure, at one time she'd been jealous of the blonde who'd seemed to have everything – but she wasn't anymore. Faith had found her own self-confidence, her worth, her nitch. She had finally grown up and she damned well liked that person she had grown into. Yeah, she still had her flaws and little quirks, but she really liked who she was. Faith had fucking worked hard to be respected, and now, listening to Giles question her was more difficult than she'd thought it would be. In the future, she had proved herself to Giles. But she hadn't done that yet, and the four steps back she had suddenly taken were frustrating. He might value her as a slayer, but didn't see her as a leader. Giles had never considered her a part of his family, like he had with Buffy, Willow, or Xander. She was a comrade. Someone that he could assign a task and trust that it would be done.

Watching Giles rant at her, she realized just how much she cared about that bond that had been between them. The thought of him viewing her as a misguided girl who was just finally starting to get her life together felt like a punch to the gut. She had redeemed herself multiple times and did not want to go back to having to constantly prove herself.

There was only Willow in her corner right now. And, in all fairness, Willow was sort of there because she was stuck there. Faith had practically forced this situation onto her. The red head was dealing with it like a champ, but Faith didn't doubt for a second that if Willow hadn't messed with her mind, the witch would have had a hard time believing what Faith had to say. While Willow wouldn't complain about working with Faith, the slayer couldn't say that the two of them were friends. That sort of relationship would take years to fix. And while Faith knew that she could count on Willow's help, Faith knew it would be hard for the girl.

Faith could not count on Buffy's help either. Not right now. It wasn't out of spite or anger or anything like that. She just knew that Buffy was very busy at the moment and couldn't be spared. The blonde would have just ended her vacation and if Faith remembered correctly, things had hit the fan pretty quickly. If Buffy wasn't already, she would soon be involved with organizing an official school for slayers.

Faith frowned. She had kind of left her group of slayers with hardly a goodbye and headed to England. All she had told Vi was that she was in charge for awhile and to give Giles a call. Fuck, Faith hadn't been that irresponsible in years. Mentally she rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She had thought herself to be a bit more level headed than that. Oh well, she'd just have to check in with Vi soon. After all, she wouldn't be going back anytime soon.

Faith turned her thoughts back to the man before her. How was she going to break through his stuffy, order, regulation-loving shell? While she didn't necessarily need help from the Watcher's Council, it would be a hell of a lot easier with their consent.

"Giles," Faith said softly, "I don't want to do this on my own."

His body stilled at her quiet words, and his eyes glanced at her carefully. This time, Faith could tell that he was really looking at her, and not just calling up the mental picture of what he thought she was like. Faith could feel his eyes studying her; feel him taking in the differences. She didn't shift in under his gaze.

Faith let her eyes meet his, and tried her hardest to look strong and not let the worry she felt underneath show.

"Tell me the basics," Giles finally said, letting out a large sigh. "Now Faith, I don't want you to think that I doubt the seriousness of your claim about Voldemort, but I am curious as to how you can be so sure when in the past slayer dreams have always been quite vague. Why don't we have a drink and you can tell me about these visions of yours."

Giles swiveled his chair around to the mini-fridge crammed in with the bookshelves behind him. Pulling out two bottles of Newcastle, he then tossed on to her.

Faith caught it with a smile. She hadn't expected him to want to talk her visions out over a couple of beers.

"I think this discussion might go better if we each had a beer."

Faith let out a snort. "Right there with ya; already had some firewhiskey this morning."

"Look Faith," Giles sighed opening his bottle. Faith almost felt bad that she had driven the guy to drink, almost. "Officially, I am telling you to stay away from the wizarding world." He took a long swig, "Now, tell me about what is going on, so I know what I'm going to have to deny when this all goes down the crapper."

-oOo-

The halls of Hogwarts were surprisingly bare as Ron walked from Dumbledore's office to the hospital wing. It was half past one in the afternoon and students were in class. He had been in the Headmaster's office for the past two hours dodging questions and telling half truths. His head hurt, and he felt as if someone had stomped on him, repeatedly.

Ron supposed that his meeting with Dumbledore had gone as well as it could have -just short of a disaster. He shook his head, recalling the mess that had happened hours before. Remus and Moody had barged into the hotel room, wands waving and tempers flaring, prepared to incapacitate any threat. They'd shot off a few spells, and Ron had jumped off the bed in order to hide. He didn't want to be struck with a stray curse meant for a nonexistent captor. After they had confirmed his identity and realized that there was no one else the room, Remus had shoved a portkey into his hand. Surprised, he'd whirled briefly before finding himself dumped into the Headmaster's office.

However, the office was empty and Ron ended up waiting a good half-hour for Dumbledore to show up. When the Headmaster did get there though, the integration began immediately.

Dumbledore had questioned, pried, and practically demanded answers from Ron. It had taken all of Ron's courage to stop himself from spewing off information. The questions had started off gentle enough, with Dumbledore trying to get Ron to open up on his own. Asking how Ron felt. Offering him a lemon drop. Suggesting to Ron that whatever information he had would be beneficial to the Order, and making him feel guilty when Ron would only share the basics. While the experience had been hell, Ron was rather proud of himself. It wasn't everyday that one was questioned by one of the most powerful wizards in the world and walked away in one piece. Not that Dumbledore was going to tear him apart or anything.

Ron had stuck to the story that he'd thought-up while waiting for the Headmaster to arrive. He had told Dumbledore that he had received visions of the future, and that he felt that the knowledge could be used to change the current path they were on. That if things continued as they were now, You-Know-Who would win. Dumbledore had wanted specifics and Ron had fumbled through the first flaw of his plan. Ron had sputtered a bit while trying to come up with some information that he could part with. He was wary of giving too much, worried about making things worse. And he was worried that he would give his dirty little secret of time travel away thus making it impossible for him to change anything. But, he needed information that would prove to Dumbledore that he truly did know what was coming.

Ron had decided to give Dumbledore what he would be most interested in. He had made a quick decision and had told Dumbledore about the Horcruxes. Although, he hadn't exactly called them that, instead he had described objects that had shown up in the visions. Objects that he had felt were important but were confused as to why they would be. It had been an awkward dance, giving information, twisting facts, and trying to appear confused.

He spoke of the locket decorated with snakes and how Harry used the Gryffindor sword to destroy it. He'd left out bits of information that were too specific; he didn't want to appear all-knowing. For instance, he had told Dumbledore that they had gotten the locket off of Umbridge, but not of how it had gotten to her. Whether he should have mentioned Kreatcher or Mungdangus he was still unsure. Faking visions of the future was completely new to him, and he was trying to keep it believable. However, he had felt perfectly barmy for much of his conversation with Dumbledore.

Hufflepuff's cup had been easier to talk about. He'd told the Headmaster that a golden cup was located at a ruined house. Whether Dumbledore would connect the dots and realize that he was talking about Godric's Hallow, Ron was unsure. And for now, that was just fine with him.

He had decided to not speak about Nagini.

And lastly about a ring that Dumbledore would eventually possess. That one had been easy; he really didn't know much of anything.

Dumbledore had eaten up everything that Ron had said. He'd questioned Ron for hours about where the objects were located, what they looked like, and any other information that Ron could give. Dumbledore had never said that these objects were Horcruxes, and Ron was careful to not bring up the term himself. It was no wonder that his head was pounding.

It had gotten really sticky when Dumbledore had begun to ask questions about how the Watcher's Council was involved. Ron had stumbled a bit there. He'd decided from the beginning that discussing Faith was a big 'no.' Telling Dumbledore that a member of the Council had the same visions that he had, and thus sought him out, was as much information that he had been willing to divulge. He'd pretended that the only reason he knew that much was because the member had told him. Ron had pretty much clamped his mouth shut on the subject after that. Dumbledore had asked whether the Council was going to intervene with Voldemort. Ron had simply said that he didn't know how the Council worked. Then of course Dumbledore had been curious if the Council was going to be keeping in touch with Ron. Which Ron had replied no and after a very piercing gaze, he'd changed his answer to maybe. It had seemed calmed the Headmaster, for now.

Oh, Ron didn't believe for a second that Dumbledore would stay off of his back. Not a chance. In the hours he'd spent with the Headmaster, they'd barely even scratched the surface of questions that Ron was sure Dumbledore was aching to ask. Ron knew he was treading in treacherous water.

Dumbledore was a dangerous man and writing him off as an old-man-round-the-bend would be disastrous. But Ron simply wasn't ready to tell the Headmaster _everything_. Ron had never been close to Dumbledore, and while over the years he had come to respect the man greatly, he knew that Dumbledore was not the benevolent man he appeared to be. The article written by Rita Skeeter during what should have been his last year at Hogwarts had shocked Ron. He hadn't wanted to believe anything that vile woman had said. But as time moved on and Ron became more involved in the war, he began to see why Dumbledore was the person he was. War was hard on a person's ethics.

After a few hours of interrogation, Dumbledore finally had other obligations to attend to and dismissed Ron practically ordering him to return to the hospital wing. However, Ron had had to wait a few more minutes, twiddling his thumbs and pretending to be earnest, while his double arrived. Dumbledore had had Bill replace him in the hospital wing for the day and a half he'd been missing. Although he hadn't gotten to speak much with his older brother, the look that his brother had given him was enough to make his throat dry. He had yet another long conversation to look forward to, one with red-headed relatives that were not as …polite….as Dumbledore. The Headmaster hadn't wanted Umbridge to know that Ron was missing, and Bill, as a relative and member of the Order, had filled in. So, once his look a-like had appeared, Ron was able to scurry away.

Ron wasn't sure if Dumbledore had believed a word that had come out of his mouth. He didn't even know how to read the old wizard. But right now, he had larger things to worry about.

Ron was dreading his trip to the Hospital wing almost as much as he had dreaded his confrontation with the Headmaster. There was a chance that this meeting with Madam Pomfrey would not go well. A big chance. She would want to examine him, want to examine the burns on his arm. While the Skin-o-Graft was affective at hiding the mark, the medi-witch could notice it with all of her prodding and poking. Hell, how couldn't she? And then, she'd remove it and there was no way in hell that Ron was going to let her do that.

Ron ran a hand through his hair and fought the urge to stomp his foot in frustration. He couldn't tell Poppy and he doubted that he would be able to reason his way out of an examination. However, he couldn't let anyone know about his dark mark. The medi-witch wouldn't keep it a secret, how could she? And while he doubted that she would say anything to the Ministry of Magic, she would undoubtedly say something to Dumbledore. Whatever trust the Headmaster had in Ron would be completely ruined and all the questions would start over again. Only this time, Ron wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore skipped the whole lemon drop thing, and went straight to the powerful wizard thing. Ron would rather avoid that situation.

Feet coming to a stop, Ron realized with a sinking sensation that he had arrived outside the hospital wing doors. Perhaps she would be busy, and he wouldn't have to see her. Poppy wasn't in sight, but he knew that she was around. Dumbledore had to have alerted her that he was coming. Ron supposed he should be thankful that the Headmaster was not joining them, but the tension in his frame didn't fade. He tipped-toed in as quietly as he could, and sat down on the bed that he had spent so much time in the week before. Its white sheets matched his white hospital uniform. He would be glad to slip into something with a bit more color.

Unfortunately, there was a chance that the nurse would still be angry about his escape.

He had stunned her.

"There you are Mr. Weasley," Pomfrey said, as she closed her office door. Ron turned quickly away from the hospital bed. He couldn't quite make himself smile, but he tried to appear harmless and at ease.

As the door clicked shut, Ron couldn't help but remember that he had threatened Snape against the same door. Once his memories had been worked out, he'd felt even more guilty about hurting Pomfrey. Snape though, he wished that he'd hurt a bit more. He'd managed to assault two Hogwarts faculty members in a matter of days, wonderful.

Ron inadvertently backed up until his knees hit the bed behind him.

"That was quite a stunt that you pulled the other day," she muttered to herself, sounding both scolding and hurt.

"I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey," It didn't hurt to user her full title. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Nothing that couldn't be fixed," Poppy huffed as she made her way to where he was sitting. "Consider yourself lucky that it was the Headmaster who found me."

Ron only nodded in reply, and resisted the urge to apologize again.

"Now, let's get a look at you," she said, raising her wand towards his face. "I want you to follow my finger with your eyes and just ignore the wand."

Ron had done all of this before. Next he would have to open his mouth and say 'AHH.' After, she'd check his heart beat and blood pressure. Then she would run a number of complicated tests that did something, he supposed. What they tested, he had no idea. He silently followed her directions and thought quickly about how he could distract her so she wouldn't want to look at his arm.

"What does this test do anyway?" Ron asked, as she tapped her wand on his head in a pattern of three. In her other hand she held a quill that danced around on a piece of paper. The taps on his head seemed to coincide with the scribble line on the paper.

"I am checking your brain activity to make sure that it is functioning normal," she replied in a no-nonsense manner. He would have nodded his head in understanding, but stopped himself at the last minute. Poppy wouldn't have been amused.

Ron wondered how hitting his head with her wand repeatedly could possibly tell her about his brain functions. If anything, it only made his head hurt. He was about to ask if there was an incantation that went with it, but the focused look on her face told him that questions weren't welcome.

"Well, the good news is that your brain is working normally again," she said briskly. "I hadn't told you before, but there were a few abnormal areas that were functioning the last time I ran this test."

"Huh, is that bad?" Ron chewed his lip in thought. "I don't remember when that was."

"It can be bad. I was worried that you'd have admitted to St. Mungo's for more in depth tests," Poppy said, her wand flicking in an odd circular movement. "And I'm not surprised you don't remember anything. You were quite delirious when I ran the test for the first time. Rambling on about . . . well, about nonsense things."

Ron could tell that she'd stopped herself from saying something else.

"About what?" he pushed, Poppy's lips pressing together at his question. "You can tell me. I really want to know."

He was curious about what he'd said, if the information he'd spewed really was nonsense, or if it was something he'd rather she didn't know.

"How much to you remember of the past week?" Poppy asked, halting whatever test she was conducting.

"Bits and pieces. I remember decking Snape," Ron smiled, and let the scene replay in his mind. It had been priceless.

"That was not amusing," Poppy scolded. She frowned and looked at her wand. "While I am unsure of what exactly had happened to you, the Headmaster told me that you are for the most part recovered. Is that true?"

"Yeah," Ron wasn't sure where she was going with this. "I'm better."

As better as he was ever going to be.

"Headmaster Dumbledore and I were very worried about some of the things that you said during that week," she paused and looked him in the eye. The corners of her eyes crinkled in worry as she continued, "And he had asked me to note it all down. For obvious reasons, we had wanted this to remain quiet- Merlin help us if Umbridge ever got word of any of the things that you uttered. While she might not believe it all, she would no doubt use it in some way to get you expelled or worse."

Ron remained silent, tensing up as she talked. He didn't remember everything that he had said during that time, and to make matters worse, there was a list somewhere that had it all written down word for word.

"Whatever I had been saying this past week, somewhere in my head I do remember it. I just need a refresher," Ron told Pomfrey, trying to sound earnest and not desperate. "I can handle it."

She let out a long sigh, and Ron could practically hear her thinking. Tucking her wand into her apron, she rubbed at the nape of her neck before starting.

"The first time I ran the test you were blathering on about Mr. Potter's death," the words Pomfrey uttered were almost too quiet for Ron to hear.

"Oh," was all Ron could say in response.

Harry's death. That would be disturbing to listen to. Shite, it was something that not even he wanted to think about.

"Oh," Ron said again a little louder this time.

Ron looked downward at his hands. They were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. While he didn't remember what he had said to the medi-witch, he clearly remembered the event. It was one of the worst days of his life.

"By your reaction I assume that you remember," Poppy stated, her voice a bit clearer.

"Yeah, well," Ron said. "It's not something that you easily forget. Have you told Dumbledore yet?"

It wasn't that Ron wanted to keep it a secret, but it was something that he had no interest in talking about. Harry's death was not going to happen. Period. Ron would make sure that his friend would live through this war. He would drag him through it if he had to.

"Yes, I've told him," Pomfrey replied, her tone daring him to talk back. "You must understand Ron; this was not something that I could keep from the Headmaster."

Oh wasn't that just peachy. Ron wondered why the old man hadn't brought it up during their 'talk' earlier.

It was these thoughts Ron dwelt on as Poppy silently went back to work. But why wouldn't Dumbledore have said something? Perhaps he had forgotten when Ron had started talking about the Horcruxes? He silently rolled his eyes. Yeah, right. Like Dumbledore would have forgotten something like that.

On the bright side, he might now have something to convince Dumbledore that dying was a bad idea. Without the Headmaster in the war, the world was screwed. The Order had fallen apart after Dumbledore's death. Of course, the Order had tried to hold themselves together, but without Dumbledore it had been a joke. But how to save Albus? Unfortunately, Ron only knew so much about the Headmaster's death.

He let his mind wander as Poppy silently worked. He knew what Harry had told him, and unluckily, it hadn't been much. Harry had said that that bastard Snape had killed Dumbledore because Draco wouldn't. And that it had, for Harry, sounded as if Dumbledore had asked Snape to kill him. But why would he do that? It wasn't as though Snape provided any useful information to the Order. The man was a joke.

Ron was jostled out of his thoughts as he felt Poppy's hand reach around his left wrist. On instinct he pulled sharply out of her grasp.

"It's fine," he found himself saying, forcing a hard grin to his face.

"I think that I'll be the judge of that," Poppy reached for his arm again, her tone demanding obedience.

Ron kept his arm out of her reach.

The medi-witch did not look amused.

"I already removed the bandages and it has healed up great," Ron tried to persuade, "It feels as good as new. Really."

Poppy crossed her arms and frowned.

She didn't even have to say anything, her expression spoke volumes. If he did not show her his arm, she would force the foulest potions she could find down his throat. Having drunk many potions over his lifetime, Ron stifled a shudder. Reluctantly, he held his left arm out.

"That's better," she said, once again the kind medi-witch.

Ron's stomach began to somersault as took his arm. She ran a thumb over the skin.

"This looks as if it healed well," she mused and tapped her wand against his arm.

Ron intently watched her face, searching for a sign that he was caught.

Poppy frowned.

"Strange," she paused to press her wand against his arm again. This time, she muttered something as well. It was too soft for Ron to hear the words she spoke. However, even if he had heard them, he doubted that he would have known them anyway. Medicine had never been his forte.

"What's strange?" Ron asked, dreading what her answer would be. Would he have to attack her again? Modify her memory?

"The burn seems to have left a taint on your arm," she drew something with her wand on his skin.

"A taint?" his voice uncontrollably cracked and he fought the urge to bolt out of the room. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to remain calm.

Poppy looked up from her test and frowned.

"Yes, a taint," she repeated.

"But I feel fine," Ron slowly replied. "How is it tainted? I don't get it."

Ron's heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. He already knew the answer to his question, but was curious to hear Poppy would say. Whether she would recognize the taint for what it was, the dark mark, or believe that it was something else, he was unsure.

"I'm not sure," Poppy replied. "I noticed it when I examined the arm when you first came in. I assumed that it was residual magic left over and that it would fade in time. You're lucky that it doesn't seem to be spreading throughout your body. Whatever happened to you a week ago was filled with dark magic; it doesn't seem that you were able to completely escape it. I'm going to have to keep an eye on your arm for the next few months."

Poppy quirked an eyebrow as she once again traced her thumb against the forearm. She came to the edge of the Skin-o-Graft and paused. The frown still present on her face, she flicked her nail against his skin. The nail barely scratched the surface, but his hair went on edge anyway.

She knew.

The thought swamped through his head and whispered into his ears.

He pulled his arm away again. If he left it in her grasp she could find the edge of the patch.

"If you're done," he tried to sound impatient, but he could hear the worry creeping into his voice. "Can I go now?"

It couldn't hurt to sound like a teenager, and he drew the last words out into a boyish whine.

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was considering saying 'no' to his request. Her lips pulled thin. Was it him, or did her face also look paler as well?

"You may," she replied after a moment. "But I would like to do a check up tomorrow. Stop in after dinner, let's say seven o'clock."

Ron nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He had dogged a killing curse, so to speak.

"Ah," he stammered in agreement, jumping off the hospital bed. "See you then."

He ran out of the hospital wing as fast as he could without actually running. It was only after he was down the hallway and on the first flight of stairs that he realized he was still stuck in the white pajama ensemble. Not wanting to go back, he continued forward. He'd just have to return them during his visit tomorrow. He didn't want to see Pomfrey again without gathering his bearings.

That was close. Too close.

He was so sure that Poppy knew he was hiding something.

So sure that she would find the edge of the Skin-o-Graft and peal it off.

Maybe he was being paranoid. She could have just been running her normal diagnostic spells trying to identify the taint. She may have not even noticed anything out of the ordinary with his arm – that is, besides the obvious taint.

Oh shite! Faith had taken the Skin-o-Graft with her when she left. He would have to sneak back to Hogsmeade to buy some more sometime later this week.

Ron muttered the password for the Gryffindor common room, relieved that it was still the same from a week ago and he wouldn't have to wait outside for someone. What he wanted was a long, hot shower. Everyone was still in class, and he looked forward to having some peace and quiet for at least another hour. Neither Dumbledore nor Poppy had said anything about attending his lessons today, and he had no problem taking advantage of the situation. After all of the shite he had been through this week, he deserved a day off.

Actually, he was pretty sure he deserved a week off, but that was a fat chance.

Ron shuffled through his trunk for clean clothes. He pawed through familiar jumpers, looking for one that was both comfortable and clean. Itching to get of the hospital cloths that he had spent the last week wearing different variations of, he ached to wear something of his own. The pair of trousers and an old worn brown jumper looked like heaven to his eyes. He grabbed a clean pair of shorts to go with them and headed to the showers.

He spent at least a half hour under the water, enjoying the feeling of warmth seeping into his skin. Steam filled the room, causing Ron to relax deeper then he had in years. It felt as if he'd walked into a spa. Showers weren't exactly common when you were trying to lay low. Cleaning spells worked well and all, but nothing could replace the feeling of hot water rolling down the skin.

Leaning his head back into the spray, Ron smiled, thinking of all the things that he would once again be able to enjoy.

Hot showers were only the first of many.

There would also be a working loo anytime he needed one! No more having to squat behind a bush to take a crap. Faith used to get such a kick out of surprising him in those situations.

Oh, and he couldn't forget hot meals. Pumpkin juice and Butterbeer! Pot-roast and potatoes! His stomach was growling just thinking about it.

There were so many good things that he would have again, so many things to eat and see and experience once more. Unfortunately, there were also many things that he did not want to repeat. These upcoming years would not be easy. There was almost too much to think about.

It had really started now; his fifth year was _the_ year.

He shook his head, shaking water droplets from his hair. There was Umbridge, and although Ron wasn't quite sure what he was going to do about her, he really did not want to live through another year under her tyranny. Obviously, Dumbledore hadn't been ousted from his position as Headmaster. If Ron could save Dumbledore's from that, he would. That would mean not letting the D.A. be caught. Sure, it wasn't going to be easy dodging questions that the Headmaster might have, but he would rather deal with Albus than Umbridge any day.

Of course, the big issue would be the Department of Mysterious, and Ron had no idea what he was going to do about that. Losing Sirius had been devastating for Harry, but considering all that could have gone wrong, they had gotten off easy. The Department of Mysterious had had at least one important outcome - it had forced the Ministry of Magic to acknowledge that Voldemort had returned. If that night had never happened, how much longer would it have taken for Fudge to get his head out of his arse and realize the danger that they were all in? Ron really didn't know.

After tackling that, and assuming he didn't mess it all up, he would have to find a way to save Dumbledore. Dumbledore couldn't die. Ron, Harry and Hermione had been completely lost without him. Not even the items that Dumbledore had left the three of them were enough to help. Ron had received Dumbledore's special lighter that put out all lights and led him to Harry. The second function of the lighter had helped extensively, but in the end, it still hadn't been enough.

The snitch that Harry received had practically been a joke. After all, they'd never gotten the thing to open. Ron grimaced and pushed the mysterious object from his mind.

Turning the water up higher, Ron cursed the item that Dumbledore had left for Hermione- A communication device that had been linked with the devil himself. Snape. Merlin, Ron hated that man. And for some reason Dumbledore had thought it was important for her to remain in contact with him! Damn it! They hadn't needed that greasy git for shite.

Wiping the water out of his eyes, he tried to think of what should have been his seventh year at Hogwarts logically. Too often all he could feel was anger and frustration for those months. The majority of the time they spent on the hunt for the Horcruxes, searching and running and stumbling around.

Bill and Fluer's wedding and the mad search for the Horcruxes. Voldemort's slow infiltration of the ministry, and the fight to recover Hogwarts. Voldemort's first attack on the Muggle world. It had taken years for the Muggle governments to fall, but in the end, they had.

But they were still fighting back, still putting out everything they had- until Harry had died at the age of nineteen. Ron shut his eyes tightly, and felt a tightness in his chest.

Once Harry had died, it had seemed that all hope had vanished with him. As time had past, Harry become a legend, and by the time the Muggle world had entered the war, he was recognized worldwide. His death had been the most devastating blow that could have occurred and his passing had seemed to suck the life out of people. For many, the fight died with him.

Turning off the water, he hung his head and looked at his feet. His eyes hurt from clenching them so tightly.

But this time, they would win. Ron would make sure of that.

Ron toweled himself dry and glanced around. Unconsciously, he had left his wand on his bed. He couldn't afford to leave his wand behind anymore, even if it was to take a shower. It was a rookie thing to do. A mistake that he hadn't made in years. Well, he wasn't quite sure how the whole time travel thing affected 'years,' but it had been awhile. He supposed it would be more like weeks, but then again…

Ron mentally slapped himself as he dressed. He had a feeling that he would be confusing simple things like that for a long time to come. The big things would be easier to keep straight, and the littler things he'd just have to figure out or ignore.

After grabbing his wand, he wandered into the common room. Perhaps he'd have enough time to curl up on a couch and take a light doze.

He stopped in his tracks and smiled.

There, at a table only ten feet in front of him sat Harry and Hermione hovering over a book.

They looked wonderful.

Hermione was explaining something rapidly to Harry, her eyes bright with an intensity that he remembered only too well. She was in her element, gesturing to the book then back to Harry, checking for comprehension before moving on.

Harry, in contrast, looked lost. His hand was propped on his mussed up hair as he tried to keep up with her quick mind. Glasses askew and lips pressed together in thought, he looked more than a little confused.

Ron was struck with how much he missed them.

He had felt like such a failure when Harry had died.

Thank Merlin that Hermione had been with him during that time. Without her, he didn't think that he would have been able put himself together again.

After Hermione had left him, it had been only the mission that kept him going.

The thought that one day he would see the two of them again, alive and well.

And now, here Ron was. Here they were.

He couldn't recall a moment he'd been so relieved.

While a few others in the common room looked towards him, his friends hadn't quite noticed him yet. Ron approached as quietly as he could, wanting to enjoy the moment a bit longer. He was almost tempted to pull up a chair and simply watch them.

"Hermione," he said, when he was practically on top of them. "I don't think Harry understands half of what you're saying."

Both of their heads shot up, and the identical expressions of shock on their faces quickly turned into smiles.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, jumping to her feet. The chair she was sitting on clamored to the floor as she lunged at him. In a tangle of limbs, Hermione crashed into Ron, her arms gripping him tightly around the waist. He hugged her tight and smiled over her shoulder at Harry. Harry grinned back.

Hermione pulled away and pressed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him down a few inches to her height.

"We were so worried about you," she said, and gave him another quick hug. "Don't you ever leave us like that again!"

"It's good to see you guys to," he joked, unable to hold back his amusement.

Harry approached once Hermione had backed up and gave him a pat on the back and a quick hug. The worry he had seen in their faces the last time they'd spoken now seemed like a distant memory. They looked relieved, like a weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. He knew that they were worried about him, but the depth of just how much they were concerned came as a surprise. Ron guessed that he shouldn't be quite so alarmed at their concern; after all, he had been really messed up for awhile.

"Thank Merlin that you're alright mate," Harry said, still grinning. "You had us worried there."

"Come on," Hermione pulled on Ron's arm and motioned to Harry. "Let's go someplace where we can talk in private."

By now, the entire common room was looking at the three of them, the rest of the Gryffindors obviously curious. While the entire school had been gossiping about what had happened to Ron Weasley, most of the Gryffindors had heard Ron's screams first hand. Considering that only Harry, Hermione and his family were allowed to visit him during his stay in the hospital wing, his housemates were itching for answers.

Ron and Harry let Hermione lead them up the stairs into the boy's dormitory. He'd never quite understood why Hermione was allowed to enter his room, but he couldn't enter her own. He had once asked Hermione what her thoughts were on the subject, only to have her shake her head and laugh in return. Girls. She shut the door behind them, locking it to ensure they remain undisturbed. Ron slouched against one of the bed frames and Harry approached and sat on an opposite bed.

"Oh Ron," she leaned back against the heavy door. "Are you alright, really?"

"Yeah," he responded, an odd lump forming in his throat at the concern he could hear in her voice. "I'm better."

"Are you sure you're fine?" Hermione pressed, her eyebrows scrunched. "It's just that – well, we were really worried about you after what happened last week. You should have seen yourself. It was terrifying..."

Her voice died off and she clamped her lips together.

"Oh come on," Ron smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "I couldn't have been that bad."

Hermione remained silent and averted her eyes to the floor.

"You were," Harry piped up after Hermione had been quiet for a few moments, "And then, when you ran off like that without a word to anyone. . . . What were we to think?"

Ron could hear the agitation creeping into Harry's voice.

"I left a message," Ron's voice was quiet. The excuse sounded lame even to his ears. At the time it had seemed reasonable enough, but now, he was surprised the two of them hadn't hung him up from his ankles.

"With Dobby," Harry said in disbelief. "You couldn't even tell us in person."

"If I went searching for the two of you I would have only been shuffled back to the hospital wing by a professor," Ron argued. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Obviously you saw someone," Harry spat. "Ginny told us you know, about you and your mystery guest hexing her."

"Stop it you two," Hermione intruded, but Ron ignored her. Harry obviously had as well.

"I would never hurt Ginny! I only stunned her!" Ron defended. "And besides, she wanted to take me back to the infirmary! I couldn't allow myself to go back there."

"So you just ran off?" Harry snapped his fingers. "Just like that, without a word to anyone. Merlin Ron, you were so out of it this past week that you couldn't have made a sound decision. For all we know, you could have been hallucinating again, and wandering around the streets of Hogsmeade! Or the forbidden forest! You could have gotten hurt or killed."

Ron pushed down the anger that easily rose to the surface. Yes, Harry was mad, but what else could Ron have expected? Through all their years at Hogwarts they'd stuck together. And Harry wasn't just furious; Ron could hear the hurt in his voice. No wonder Harry was so pissed. Ron had just up and left, with hardly a word to anyone. Part of him wanted to yell, but he knew that having a shouting match with Harry was a bad idea.

Pushing past Harry, he sank onto the bed and hung his head between his legs. Unsure of what to say, he remained quiet. This was supposed to be the easiest talk of the three he had today. But no, things had to be fucked up, as always. He really had no idea how to make things better. Ron couldn't remain silent about what happened, but he couldn't tell them all of the details.

"Ron," Hermione said sitting down next to him. He pulled himself up and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Harry's just, he's worried, you know. We didn't know what had happened to you. And, you really scared us, we were afraid that You-Know-Who had done something; attacked you in some way. Then you disappeared leaving only a message with Dobby saying that you're going to be okay. Dumbledore wouldn't tell us anything. What were we supposed to think? We've been going stir crazy for two days now."

Ron looked over to Harry, who had stuffed his hands into his pockets. He was carefully avoiding looking at Ron. He stared at the stone work of the floor and acted as if Hermione hadn't mentioned him at all.

"I didn't mean to worry you. I just didn't have time to find you guys," Ron was definitely feeling guilty now.  
"We would have gone with you," Harry said softly, eyes still on the floor. "Wherever you went."

Ron heard the unasked question in Harry's statement. Where have you been for the past two days and are you going to tell us?

"Look," Ron began. "Last Wednesday night someone came by who knew what was wrong with me. And they knew how to fix me."

"And you went with them," Harry gaped, seeming to come out of his stupor. "For all you could have known the person might have been a death eater."

"Is that who Ginny saw you with?" Hermione picked up where Harry left off, her voice still calm. "On the night you left she said that she thought it was Lavender. If it wasn't Lavender, who was she?"

"A member of the Watcher's Council," he found the words coming out of his mouth before he noticed what he was saying.

Hermione's jaw went slack and her eyes went wide.

"The. . . .The Watcher's Council," she stammered. "What were they even doing here? In Hogwarts of all places? That's unprecedented."

Hermione jumped off of the bed and started pacing around the room.

"You're sure?! You're absolutely sure that it was them?!" Hermione's voice uncommonly cracked.

Ron nodded back at her. Well, at least he knew that she was aware of the organization.

"Ron, do you have any idea what this could mean? The Council hasn't intervened in Wizarding affairs since Grindelwald. And before that the black plague."

Harry turned to Hermione, the look on his face one of frustration. "I don't understand. What's the Watcher's Council?"

Taken completely aback by what he had just said, she paused in mid-step and looked at Harry.

"What's the Watcher's Council?" she repeated. "Don't you ever pay attention in class Harry?"

"It depends on the class?" Harry replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Professor Binns talked about the Watcher's Council for at least a week during fourth year," Hermione looked pointedly at Harry. She lightly shook her head at his vacant expression. "The Watcher's Council is responsible for training Slayers. I know you've heard of the Slayer before."

"Yeah, I've heard of her," Harry looked at Ron.

"Why on earth would the Watcher's Council be interested in you?" Hermione asked, not even waiting for Ron to respond before she continued on. "Do you even understand the implications? What this could mean? The Council doesn't just take an interest in anybody. They're one of the most powerful organizations in human history."

"Hermione, you're starting to repeat yourself," Ron said, once more impressed by the amount of knowledge she was able to remember. "Sit down, calm down."

Hermione let out a puff of air and sat back down next to him. He could practically feel the excitement rolling off of her in waves. She was only still for a moment before she turned towards Ron.

"Well," she practically demanded, examining him like a difficult spell she was trying to decipher. "Why did they want with you?"

Ron would have to proceed very carefully from here on out.

"Um," he replied, scratching at the back of his head. "Well, it was because of what happened a week ago. You know, that night when I woke everybody up?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, "How could we forget?"

The anger that had been in his voice earlier was still evident.

Hermione glared at Harry before turning back to Ron.

"And?" She asked.

Shite, he really hated lying to Hermione and Harry, but there was no way he could tell them what happened. Not with Voldemort as connected to Harry as he was. Merlin, if Voldemort ever found out about Ron, it would be a disaster. Ron did not believe for a second that he could withstand a mental assault by the Dark Lord. No way. Ron knew his limitations when it came to Occlumency, and he was only slightly above average – very slightly. The Dark Lord could tear through his mind like it was a piece of parchment paper.

This was going to be hard.

"That night I had a vision," he gave them the same lie that he had told Dumbledore. "And that vision completely messed up my mind. I couldn't keep straight what had already happened with what I'd seen."

"Wait, wait wait -" Hermione interrupted. "A vision? Like what Trelawney said about Wormtail in our third year?"

"So now what?" Harry snorted. "Are you going to start wearing bugged out glasses and go around predicting my death too?"

"This isn't funny!" Ron snarled. "I'm serious."

"It's not that we doubt you," Hermione looked as if she had no idea how to respond. "It's just – it's just. Well, it's just a bit far fetched is all."

"After everything that's happened to us over the years this is hardly unbelievable," Ron answered. "I mean, after You-Know-Who was attached to the back of Quirrell's head I don't think this is too hard to comprehend!"

"Don't get mad at us," Harry growled back. "Perhaps if you had spoken to us before running off, or taken us with you we might believe you!"

"Oh, not this again," Ron almost threw up his hands. "What do you want from me? I couldn't take you two with me! I'm sorry, I really am!"

Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was not going to allow himself to get any angrier.

"What I saw, is nothing like the crap that Trelawney spews," Ron frowned. "She just spouts off stupid prophecies that she doesn't even remember. Well, I remember this and I know what we need to do to win!"

Hermione's face was pale, "Why would the Watcher's Council be interested in this? I thought You-Know-Who only wanted to rule the wizarding world?"

"Not anymore."

The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

"So, where does The Council come into this?" Hermione asked, clearly seeing that he was upset. "She knew how to find me and that I needed help. It gets pretty rough but that's why I had the vision. In order to win this, we need all of the help we can get."

Ron looked at Harry, then Hermione. They had identical looks of disbelief on their faces. But why wouldn't they? What Ron was telling them was pretty unbelievable, granted it was also a lie, but the truth was perhaps even stranger.

Harry leaned slightly back onto the bed, his face oddly calm.

"Well?" Harry asked. "What exactly did you see?"

Ron inwardly froze. What exactly should he tell Harry and Hermione?

"Um . . . . you see," Ron helplessly began. "I can't exactly tell you about all of that right now."

The room was silent as his two friends looked at him.

Ron knew that this wasn't going to be good.

It was Harry who spoke first.

"What do you mean that you can't tell us right now?" Harry's voice was hard.

"It's just that. . . .you see. . . ." Ron wasn't sure how to say this so that they didn't hate him. Should he just lie some more? Fuck! He didn't want to do that. The corner of Harry's mouth twitched with anger. Ron had seen that look on his friend's face before, but never before had seen it aimed at him. Hermione stared at him as if he were speaking an entirely different language. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung partly open.

"Harry has to learn Occlumency first." Ron forced the words out of his mouth, trying to get them to stop asking questions.

"What the hell does that have anything to do with it?!" Harry yelled at him as he jumped off of the bed. Anger clouded Harry's face until it was twisted into something ugly. "First Dumbledore and now you? I thought we were friends? But no, you're just like everybody else thinking that you know what's best for me!"

"Don't be so thick Harry!" Ron shot back. "There is a reason for that you know!"

"Oh and what reason could that be?" Harry snapped. "You think I'm a kid too? Just like the old man, a good for nothing kid who has no business when it comes to Voldemort!"

"I didn't say that!" Ron countered.

"You didn't have to!" Harry spat at him. "You've always wanted to be special Ron! Well, way to go! You've accomplished that now, haven't you? You and Dumbledore can just go plan the war and try to use me like some tool to be discarded!"

"It's not like that Harry!" Ron's stomach dropped. Merlin, he didn't remember Harry being so angry. "There's a reason that Dumbledore is acting the way he is! Why do you think that he wants you to learn Occlumency in the first place?!"

"I don't know!" Harry said through clenched teeth, his fists locked at his sides. "Because the old man thinks I'm worthless and won't be of any help! Because he thinks that the dreams I've been having are just another sign that I'm losing my mind? Because he doesn't want me to get involved in this mess even though there is no way for me to avoid it?!"

"Because the link goes both ways Harry!" Ron hollered back, seriously fed up with his best friend's shouting. "Voldemort has access to your mind just like you have access to his! I can't risk Voldemort finding out!"

"It's only dreams and stuff," Harry sputtered, gesturing wildly with an arm. "It's not like he can get into my mind or possess me or anything like that!"

"But he can Harry!" Ron replied, and he could hear sadness mixed with anger in his voice. "If he tries hard enough, he can access all of your thoughts and memories!"

Harry froze at what he'd said, his mouth opening and closing as he visibly struggled to comprehend Ron's words.

Ron's mouth snapped shut. He hadn't meant to tell Harry that just yet. It was going a bit too far into details that would let to awkward questions. While Dumbledore had perhaps hinted at it to Harry, Harry had apparently not yet connected the dots.

"Then why hasn't he done that yet?" Hermione broke the awkward silence hesitantly.

Ron remained quiet for a moments before answering. Harry was looking at him in mute horror.

"Because he's wary of the connection, I think," Ron replied wanting stress the seriousness of the situation. "He doesn't understand why it's there or how it works. He doesn't like what he doesn't understand. But eventually he will experiment, and he won't be afraid of it anymore."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked. Harry looked a little pale and his mouth was very small.

"Nineteen," Ron said unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. Harry needed to understand how important this was. "That's how old you are when he starts experimenting with your mind. Believe me, it was not fun and there was practically nothing you could do to keep him out of it. When Snape tossed you out of lessons, you didn't look back."

Hermione turned to Harry.

"Snape has stopped giving you Occlumency lessons?" she asked, clearly upset. "Does Dumbledore know?"

"He hasn't," Harry said. "I still take lessons from the greasy git."

"He will," Ron said.

"Good," Harry replied, crossing his arms. "I don't need them anyway."

"But you do!" Ron yelled back.

Harry looked at Ron with hard eyes before violently unlocking the door and walking out, slamming it shut behind him.

Ron watched him walk out and wanted to wrench him back and make him listen. Harry had every right to be mad, but at the moment Ron didn't care. He wanted to apologize and yell at him, and make him see the truth. But Ron knew that he would be just as mad if the situations were reversed, so instead he turned his attention back to Hermione.

Hermione stared at him. He could see the thoughts racing around in her head. Practically hear the questions that she wanted to ask; the questions that he couldn't answer.

"It's really bad, isn't it Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"We lose?" The question was quiet, but Ron still heard it.

"We lose," Ron said, not wanting to elaborate.

Hermione stood up and walked to the door.

"He'll come around," Hermione said. "Don't worry."

Ron watched her leave and hoped that she was right.

-oOo-

_Dear Ron,_

_I know that this is a bit unexpected, but when I saw you this summer you told me to write. So, now I am. Oh, this is your cousin Susan, if you haven't figured it out yet._

_Let's see, so what's new. Oh, my friend Dominique is supposed to have her little girl on the 27__th__. I made a bet that it'll be at 10:02 pm (whoever's closest without going over is the winner!). You remember her right? You had met her the last time you'd visited us all those years ago. Anyway, we're going to try to come and visit with the new baby sometime over the summer. You'll have to take us to the shrieking shack!_

_I'm just dying to see it! Ha! Get it, dying to see it._

_I had a meeting a couple nights ago with my boss and it looks like I got the go ahead on that project of mine! There are just a few things that I'm going to have to sort out before I get started._

_Let me know how schools going, especially with O.W.L.S. coming up soon. I can't wait to see you again this summer!_

_Love Your Best Relative Ever!_

_Susan_

Ron finished reading the letter from Faith and resisted the urge to smack his head against the table. Well, he shouldn't be complaining, because obviously the letter hadn't been confiscated. But really, didn't he tell her that Susan was French? Faith had many talents, but this was certainly not one of them.


	8. One of Those Days

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, _The Order of the Phoenix_. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: This chapter contains direct quotes from **_**Harry **__**Potter and the Order of the Phoenix**_**. Quotes were pulled from Chapter 27, pages 606-623.**

**

* * *

Mein Teil**

Chapter 7: One of Those Days

* * *

4:53am

She had to get up at 4:53am.

4:53 in the fucking morning!

Faith hated mornings, especially mornings when she had to drag herself out of bed before the sun came up.

It never really seemed to matter what time she went to bed. Hell, she could go to sleep at eight and would still refuse to get out of bed before the sun had risen. It was the principle of the matter. Whoever had the misfortune of being with her on those early risings usually heard a long winded bitch-fest. Normally, it was Ron or Dawn or Bill. This morning Giles was going to be the unlucky one. If he was going to insist that she attend a meeting before the crack of dawn, then he was going to hear all about it.

Grumbling, Faith trudged out of her room and into the hallway. It was supposed to be a quick meeting, and she was counting on that. If Faith was planning on staying in London for awhile – which she was – there were a few things that needed to be taken care of.

While the Council and wizarding Ministries rarely got along, and practically never shared information, they did share a list of their most '_wanted fugitives_.' Faith had easily managed to get her name cleared with the American Ministry of Magic, but apparently the British weren't going to be as easy. Why the stupid Council would even think that they needed to make her a fugitive with the British Ministry was beyond her. But they had, and now she was definitely not welcome.

Faith pushed open the set of double doors and casually walked into the conference room.

Giles sat at the head of the table sipping from his morning cup of tea. He was perfectly put together, and she gritted her teeth at his ability to greet the morning so cheerfully. Faith took the open seat next to him. Across from Faith sat . . . oh crap what was his name?

It was something like Mr. Wring . . . Mr. Wrange. . . Mr. W-something.

And next to him was someone she didn't especially want to see.

Robin Wood.

Faith suppressed a groan. Part of her wanted to haul him up to her bedroom for a heavy romping session. Of course, there was another voice that told her dragging him along was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

If Faith wanted to get technical, they were still dating. While she had been located in Cleveland, he'd traveled between there and London doing Council stuff. They'd probably seen each other a couple of times a month and those few days had been spent locked in her room with no clothes. She felt a bit disconnected with the whole situation though, and seeing him in person was even weirder. Those days were long gone for her. Robin had died early on in the war, and she felt like a bitch for saying it, but Faith had rarely thought of him after he was gone.

It wasn't that Robin had been a bad boyfriend, and as lame as it sounded- things really just hadn't worked out. They had called it quits a few months before Voldemort had attacked. He'd found a replacement for her not long after – a pretty little slayer who'd been a bit more 'likeable' than Faith. Whatever, she hadn't cared. It probably should have had a larger impact on her emotions, but she'd been just as ready to move on as he'd been.

The last night they'd spent together had been a little over a three weeks ago she supposed, right before she'd come back into her younger self. It didn't seem to matter that part of her was over him and that she knew it wasn't going to work out, Faith still felt a tingle when she looked at him.

It was damn confusing.

Robin pulled Faith out of her thoughts, smiling widely at her from across the table. She resisted the urge to bash her head against the table. He probably thought the transfer was because she wanted to spend more time with him. She faintly smiled back. Just great.

When she had first told Giles what her intentions were with the Wizarding world, it had been decided that no one would be told. Not the board of directors or even the so called 'Scoobies." Faith, Giles, and Willow would be the only ones aware of the real reasons behind Faith's move to London. To everyone else, Faith was only looking for a break from slaying. A "Slayer Sabbatical" it was being called. Buffy had just finished her year gallivanting around Rome and was ready to go back on duty, and Faith applauded Buffy for paving the way for her alibi. Vi and Kennedy had been put in charge of the Cleveland Slaying Facility, and Faith was certain that the two of them could handle it. Her loose ends had been easily wrapped up.

Those at the facility she'd been at would only help her story. She'd heard that not much time had passed before almost every member of the Council had heard about Faith's screaming episode. Her actions the next few days she was sure had raised even more eyebrows. It had been easy for Faith and Giles to spread a cover story involving Faith catching a demonic virus. Weird stuff like that didn't even raise an eyebrow. It had easily explained her symptoms, supposedly causing 'sever delusions and paranoia.' And although Faith felt stupid for using such a lame excuse, she'd sighted the virus as one of the reasons she wanted time off. It had been an easy reason to give, especially since Faith refused to talk about what she had _hallucinated_. She supposed that everyone had assumed that if it was bad enough to freak her out, then it was really bad.

Faith tried to pay attention as the meeting progressed, but in all honesty, it was incredibly boring. They discussed the need for her to appear before the Wizengamot and the proper protocol that she needed to follow to clear her name. Blab la bla. The only thing that was interesting was that Robin wasn't there just to say 'hi.' He was in charge of setting up the case and coordinating everything. Which was awesome, 'cause Faith would rather stick her hand in a blender than do any of that planning-meeting shit. Giles had been too busy to handle it himself, and Faith knew that Robin would do a good job. There was no way that he'd let Faith – his girlfriend – be a fugitive with the British Ministry of Magic.

Giles insisted that she behaved appropriately at the appearance, going on and on about being a respectable representation for the Council. Faith resisted the urge to roll her eyes, what was she, twelve? Of course, his stern words only made her want to dress in her most skanky outfit and offend the entire courtroom. But, he gave his patented 'do what I say' look, and she promised to play nice. This time.

When all of that was squared away, and Faith was ready to bash her head against something hard, Mr W-whatever brought up a topic she was actually interested in. Where she would be 'working' in London

."What'd ya find for jobs out there for me?" asked Faith, leaning forward in her seat.

"Well, that's why Mr. Wrung is here," Giles replied, straightening his glasses. A-ha! That was his name! Faith tried to tuck it away, but knew she'd never remember it. Oh well. "Mr. Wrung is the head of one of our child companies called Artifacts, Relics and Antiquities otherwise known as ARA."

"ARA has numerous shops in both the magical and Muggle world," Mr. Wrung explained, his voice sounding like a cross between porky pig and Mr. Bean. "Depending on the location of the store, we sell rare antiquities or rare magical objects.'

'The British Ministry of Magic is aware that the Council does business with ARA, however, they do not know that we own the franchise," Mr. Wrung continued. "You can expect that over the years, the Council has gathered both useful and worthless objects. ARA is a way that we can sell the unimportant or unneeded artifacts that we collect. You'd be surprised at how many magical objects our experts get their hands on only to discover that all an old sword can do is cut through things and glow brightly. It maybe pretty and rare, but hardly priceless. It is more beneficial for the Council to sell an object like this instead of storing it for decades."

"Since you would like a break from the Slaying world," Giles said. "I thought that you might like to work as a field agent searching for such items. Your home would be here in London and you would obtain a bit of separation from the Council. I know that it is not the typical type of job that you would take, but it is something to consider. If you feel like you need a break from the Council entirely that can be arranged."

Faith shrugged, knowing that Giles would have found a job that suited her needs perfectly. "It sounds like it might be interesting. Kind of like Indiana Jones right?"

It was exactly what she was looking for. It gave her the cover she needed to search for the Horcruxes and a legitimate reason for dealing with the Wizarding world.

Giles chuckled at her statement. "Not quite like that, but I have heard that sometimes it can get a bit intense."

Faith nodded, she could handle intense.

"I need to iron out a few of the details with Mr. Wrung here, but I shall give you more details when we get everything worked out."

Giles turned back to Mr. Wrung, the two of them ironing out specific details. Whatever, she'd undoubtedly get a huge folder that had everything she needed to know in it. The meeting continued on for about ten more minutes with nothing much more interesting talked about, and Faith let herself think about a problem she had and the person who could help her fix it.

Faith needed a way to keep in contact with Ron. Owls and Floo powder would just not work. Owls? Really? The magical world's method of long-distance communication was ridiculous. Faith needed to ask Willow to make a magically altered cell phone (Willow called them mell phones) for Ron and her. She knew that the witch could do it; the Council members had some now. Trying to communicate with members in obscure places around the world was not only difficult but also expensive. And while the Council had money, they also had better things to spend it on than ridiculously expensive cell phone bills. So Willow had come to the rescue by taking a bunch of old cell phones and turning them into magical walky-talkies. The mell phone would only connect you to others on the mell phone network, and it made communication while traveling through the jungle/desert/mountains/highway 15 north of Kimball a lot easier. Hopefully, Faith could convince Willow to make her one for the communication deprived Ron.

Papers were suddenly straightened, and Giles and Mr. Wrung briskly shook hands. She hadn't realized the meeting was ending. Whoops. She'd been wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even hear the question Robin asked her. She asked him to repeat it, and he smiled before asking her again if she wanted to go someplace for breakfast.

"It's what, like still before six or something?" Faith snorted. "I'm going back to bed."

Robin grinned.

"Would you like some company?"

Faith almost blurted out 'yes' before she stopped herself.

"I think I just want to get some more sleep actually," she said instead, sounding hopefully tired and not at all interested.

Robin looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Something wrong Faith?" he asked raising his eyebrows. "Since when do you turn down sex?"

Glad that Giles and Mr. W-guy had left, Faith rubbed her face. She knew that she was turning down sex, good sex, and probably wouldn't be doing anyone else for a long while. She had been seeing Robin for at least a year now, so she didn't have any other options other than random guys. But Faith really wasn't that person anymore. Years of trying to survive taught her that sex with strangers was not worth the risks that usually came with it. Most of her options in the future had been other Order members, but she could hardly look them up. That would be a laugh. And while Ron had been her favorite partner for a time, it was hardly appropriate to sleep with him now. He was practically a kid. Besides, he would no doubt be chasing Hermione.

Faith internally smiled. Ron was going to be just as sexually frustrated as her over these next few years. Ha ha.

Oh fuck it!

"I've changed my mind," Faith smirked, already feeling better. "Your room or mine?"

What's the harm in having a bit of fun?

-oOo-

Ron ran.

The cold wind seeped through his clothes and leeched into his bones. It seemed to get in despite the numerous layers he was wearing. He tried to ignore the prickling sensation that ran across his skin. It was still early morning, and he could taste the bite in the air. Most of the school wouldn't be up for at least another hour. While Hogwarts had a curfew, he was glad that it never really specified what time a student could be up in the morning. Breakfast didn't start until seven, though most students didn't drag themselves down until eight. Which meant that at this time the school was as empty as a tomb.

He quickened his pace, hoping that it would help to heat him up. The Quidditch pitch wasn't very good ground to run on, all uneven and bumpy, but it was large and gave him the isolation he wanted. Though he didn't especially want to be alone.

The past two weeks had been hard.

Ron seemed to be constantly confused, had problems sleeping and way to much on his mind.

Harry wasn't speaking to him.

Hermione was mediating between the two.

And Ron had no idea what he should do.

Oh sure, it sounded so simple while he was discussing it with Hermione, Bill, Faith, Dawn, and Willow. Just pop on back, find the Horcruxes and save the world. He wasn't counting on an angry Harry, didn't figure the two of them would have a huge argument immediately. Ron had tried to talk to him, but Harry was outright avoiding him.

So, now instead of focusing on the last Horcrux, Ron was trying to figure what to do about his friend.

How much longer could this go on?

Harry couldn't be mad at him forever, could he? Eventually he'd understand why Ron was acting the way he was. But by then would it be too late?

He needed Harry to be with him on this for more reasons than just the stupid prophecy. Buffy had once told him that a prophecy had more than one interruption, and that the one about Harry could have been looked at many ways.

And all that was true, and important, but it wasn't why Ron wanted Harry around. Fuck the stupid prophecy; he just wanted his best friend back.

As Ron approached the entrance to the field, he noticed a figured huddled in their cloak, their breath coming out in white puffs. Hermione was watching him. A smile crept onto his face. While Harry had been downright hostile towards him, Hermione had kept her distance but not grown cold. Ron understood why, she didn't want to anger Harry anymore than he already was. He didn't hold it against her, but was still very glad to see her.

"I thought I'd find you out here," Hermione said as he came to a stop. "I heard that you've started running."

"From who?" Ron was curious; everyone always seemed to be asleep when he left. Running wasn't unheard of at Hogwarts. Oliver Wood was not only obsessed with Quidditch, but also with staying in shape. Harry had told him about the attempts that the captain had taken to try to and get the team to join him in the morning. He had never been successful. Ron was thankful that Oliver graduated and Katie took over.

"Harry's been noticing," Hermione replied softly. "Even though he's mad at you, he still noticed."

A slight bit of relief worked his way up his spine. It didn't warm him up, but he felt some tension melt away.

It must have shown on his face by the way Hermione smiled at him.

"Of course he noticed, he does care," she said, as if it should have been obvious.

"How long have you been waiting for me?" Ron changed the subject. He didn't want to talk about Harry right now. Harry gave him a headache.

"Not long. Five minutes or so," responded Hermione. "Do you run like this every morning?"

"Yeah," he said, "Well, I've started to."

Ron had always known that he was in okay shape. Not bad, not good – just average. It had worked fine for him, and he'd never really thought much about how fast he could run or how much he could bench press. It wasn't until he'd been permanently on the run that he'd really gotten into shape. The war and training with Faith had changed the way he lived. He didn't have to get back into shape, not like he'd been then, but working out added a type of stability in his life. It gave him something easy to focus on while everything else seemed to be going to pot.

"So?" Ron let the question hang in the air. He was curious as to why she was waiting for him.

"Oh well," Hermione began, her eyes darting to his. "I was thinking about some of the things that you said earlier about Occlumency. Perhaps Harry would be more agreeable to learning if we were to do it with him?"

Ron remembered her saying practically the same thing before and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"I know," he agreed, nodding. "I didn't want to say anything, but I spoke to the Headmaster about getting a book from him that would help us learn."

"You did?" Hermione almost tripped as they started back toward the school. "I can't believe we didn't think about that earlier."

"Yeah, well Harry is certainly just wasting time with that greasy-git," Ron sighed. "I figured that maybe we can help him learn. I haven't had the chance to look through it though. I don't even know if it's any good."

It was going to be difficult for Ron to act like he had no idea what he was doing.

"Harry's not going to like it," muttered Ron, and the words tasted true.

"We'll just have to warm him up to the idea," she replied, obviously liking the plan herself.

It wasn't until they were in the halls of Hogwarts that they spoke again.

"Are you coming tonight?" she abruptly asked, and he could see her watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah," Ron replied. He had almost forgotten about the D.A. meeting, the entire thing had slipped his mind. He had been too preoccupied with everything else.

The Fat Lady grumbled at them for the early hour, before eventually letting them in. It was a daily occurrence for Ron, apparently she didn't like her beauty sleep ruined. He let Hermione enter first and was briefly distracted by her small form. Of course, she wasn't doing anything to warrant this extra attention other than walking. But Ron had always enjoyed the way her hair moved as if it had a life of its own.

Merlin, he already had enough distractions right now, it was hardly the time to start thinking about girls. More like one girl, but he didn't think that she was ready for what his sixteen/twenty-six year old mind wanted to pursue. The two of them hadn't even kissed. But he did know that there was no way he was going to spend his sixth year with Lavender Brown. Even if for some stupid reason Ron wasn't able to take Hermione to that stupid dance during sixth year, he was not going to let it get to him.

Well, not as much as it had the first time around.

While these past two weeks he had been ignored by Harry, Ron had been trying very hard to ignore Hermione. Not ignore her like Harry was ignoring him, but rather ignore the fact that he hadn't seen her in so long. He was happy to see her, to speak to her. But what he really wanted to do was kiss her and hold her.

Even though it had been about two years since he'd last seen her, he still remembered every inch of her body.

How her hair smelled after a morning bath.

How soft her skin always seemed to be in his hands.

How she tasted.

Ron pressed his lips together, suddenly glad and mad that Hermione was still wearing a heavy cloak.

Hermione started up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"I'll see you at breakfast?" she asked, turning to face him. She had that look of intense concentration and worry on her face that always seemed to get to him.

Ron started to reply, and let out a very manly squeak.

Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"See you then," he smiled, cursing his now sixteen year old body.

As Ron watched her run up the stairs he had a feeling it was going to be one of those days.

-oOo-

Dumbledore frowned as he watched Ron and Hermione walk back into the school. Ron had truly become a mystery to the old man. He adjusted his moon shaped glasses and took a deep breath.

When Ron had disappeared over two weeks ago, Dumbledore hadn't been sure what to make of the matter, especially when the Watcher's Council had entered into the picture.

The Council hadn't directly intervened since Grindelwald had employed demons during World War II. Dumbledore had had the chance to meet the Slayer and her Watcher during that time. Her name had been Pearl and the watcher had been a short man with large glasses and slight stammer. Cecil, if he remembered correctly. The Council had considered Grindelwald an apocalyptic threat and arguments had erupted across the Wizarding World. The Wizarding Governments had never liked losing control of a situation, and they had felt remarkably powerless during that time. Whether it was the British, the French or the Russian Ministries – they all had the same stance towards the Watcher's Council. Stay out of our business and focus on what you are supposed to do. Fight and destroy his demon army and leave Grindelwald to the wizards.

Neither side had trusted the other handle the issue and Dumbledore now recognized just how tense the situation had become. Cooperation had not gone well, and while both sides were arguing about how to deal with the issue- Albus had decided that he could handle Grindelwald.

It had been for personal reasons. Grindelwald had been a friend, and Albus had felt partly responsible the man's actions.

Ah, but Dumbledore was now beginning to stray from the topic at hand. Thoughts of Grindelwald were better left for another time. He pushed away the picture in his head of a smiling young man; he'd already spent too much time thinking about his old friend. Albus had a new dark lord that needed his attention. It was best not to dwell on the past.

Voldemort was the problem and somehow Ron had gotten himself mixed up in the matter. Of course Albus knew that Ron - through Harry – could not have stayed uninvolved. Harry was a major part of this war, and Ron was a close friend. And yet, now Ron had taken a very unexpected path.

Visions.

It was difficult to believe that Ron had had visions of the future that could help them defeat Voldemort. The discussion that the two of them had had about the 'important objects' was very interesting. While Ron had no idea of the two of them where discussing, Dumbledore had recognized the objects immediately for what they were. Horcruxes. Albus had theories about how Tom had been able to stay alive for all these years and Horcruxes had been one the thoughts that had troubled him the most. Breaking a soul apart ruined mental stability.

What was perhaps more troubling was that Albus knew that Ron was holding back information from him. Since that meeting two weeks ago, Albus had only found one more time to speak with Ron. Unfortunately, that meeting had only left Albus with even more questions. Interestingly enough, at the second meeting Ron had asked Dumbledore if he had any books on Occlumency. Albus had questioned Ron about why he would need such a book and the boy had eventually admitted that it was for Harry. What was Ron up to, and just what had exactly started this mess?

All Poppy and Severus could say about the substance that had soaked into Ron's skin was that it was blood. The substance had contained Ron's blood and another person's as well. Even more troubling, it had been infused with dark magic. Dumbledore and Severus had been analyzing the left over residue for a week and they'd only just begun to scratch the surface.

But Ron was not the only one who worried Albus; there was also the involvement of the Watcher's Council that weighed heavily on his mind. He felt his years now, and knew that if the Watcher's Council was involved, the matter was serious.

When Albus had visited the new head of the Council, a Mr. Rupert Giles, he had been a bit surprised by the man's reaction. It had seemed that Mr. Giles had absolutely no idea what Albus was talking about. That was very troubling, indeed. Mr. Giles had handled their discussion very carefully, never revealing whether he'd authorized the involvement or not. They had dance around the issue, each trying to get the other to reveal more information for at least forty-five minutes. Dumbledore had probed at the thoughts and emotions that Mr. Giles had been projecting outwards. While this was technically legal, it was only just barely. If he were to dive any further into the man's mind, he'd need the other's approval or the Ministry's.

Albus had left the meeting with a gut feeling that Mr. Giles did not know what was going on. If that truly was the case, who had taken Ron? Who had Ron let delve into his mind, something that even Albus had been denied? It was troubling to say the least.

Could it be a rogue faction of the Watcher's Council? The Council had been under difficult times ever since their headquarters had been destroyed a little over a year ago. Perhaps there were members who were not happy with the direction that the Council was taking. Could they have somehow implanted visions of the future in Ron? But why Ron? And why would they interfere in this matter anyway?

Even more disturbing was the other thought that Albus had concerning the red headed student. Could Voldemort have somehow engineered this entire situation with Ron? If that was the case, why would Voldemort give Albus clues as to how to defeat him? Unless, the Dark Lord wanted to throw him off track. If Albus was chasing after the Horcrux theory, it would give Voldemort an unobstructed chance to go through with his real plans. But how would Voldemort have gotten to Ron in the first place?

Albus turned away from the window and gazed at Fawkes. The phoenix had been acting normal each time Ron had been here. Fawkes had always been a good judge of character, all phoenixes were.

Dumbledore sighed and ran his fingers threw his friends feathers. Perhaps he would get another chance to speak with Mr. Weasley again tonight. He should be able to find time in his schedule; his day didn't look too busy.

-oOo-

When Harry arrived to breakfast that morning, Ron and Hermione were already sitting at the table. Ron didn't even look up from his eggs as Harry took a seat next to Neville and Ginny. That suited Harry just fine. Harry wasn't quite ready to make nice with Ron yet. Maybe, when Ron realized that he could trust Harry and stop treating him like a child, he'd start talking to him. Ha, bloody unlikely considering his recent luck.

Fifth year had not been an easy one, between Umbridge, Dumbledore, and the Ministry. Harry wasn't sure how it could have been worse. Until now. Ron had always been at his side, keeping him sane. Okay, so it was true that they had had their issues, but Harry had gotten over how Ron had treated him at the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament. He'd been an idiot, but Ron had gotten over it and so had he. But this year Ron had acted like nothing but a friend, a good friend, and it had helped make this year just a little bit more bearable.

But then Ron had had his freaky vision experience and turned into another Dumbledore.

He thought he knew what was best for Harry.

He was keeping information from Harry.

He was telling Harry to trust Snape.

Harry did not need another person trying to control his life. He could live his own life just fine, and had been running it by _himself_ for as long as he could remember.

Harry piled his plate with some eggs and bacon and sourly began to eat. The words that Ron had yelled at him during their fight two weeks ago wouldn't leave his head. His fingers clenched at his fork.

Ron had told him that the link between Harry and Voldemort went both ways.

This thought churned Harry's stomach to say the least.

He couldn't ask Dumbledore about it, not that the Headmaster would tell him anything anyway.

And Ron, that was a lost cause.

It also didn't help that Ron was acting peculiar lately. Between exercising in the morning (which Ron rarely did) and finishing his school work right away (which Ron never did) Harry was wondering just where his friend had gone. Harry was taken back to one of the many strange occurrences that surrounded Ron over these past two weeks.

_"Who's that from?" Harry asked, looking at the letter that Ron was opening._

_Ron rarely got mail and although the two of them were on shaky ground, Harry was still curious enough to ask._

_"My cousin Susan," Ron replied without looking up._

_Harry waited for Ron to explain a bit more, but he remained silent. Deciding that it wasn't worth getting into a fit over, he shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. Whatever, he didn't care. Hermione sat across the table from Harry and next to Ron, buttering her own piece of toast. She was very sneakily trying to read over Ron's shoulder. Ron shifted over so that Hermione had to strain her neck to see._

_Ron continued to read, ignoring them, and Harry was resigned to not knowing another 'Ron secret.' Ginny passed by, eyeing Ron's letter for only a moment before snatching it out of his hands. He could have kissed her._

_"Why is Susan writing you?" she asked to no one in particular. Her eyes quickly scanned through the lines of writing._

_Ron whirled around and went for the letter. He tried to look only annoyed, but Harry could see the tension. Casually, Ginny held the letter out of his reach._

_"She wrote to me last year wanting to know about the Triwizard Tournament," Ron replied. "Give it here."_

_Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her down towards him. He hastily seized the letter with the other hand._

_"Shite, Ron," Ginny said, rubbing where Ron had captured her arm. "Jumpy much?"_

_Ginny slid into the seat next to Hermione, ignoring Ron completely. Not that it mattered, he stood up only seconds later._

_"See you in class," he mumbled before leaving, still looking flustered._

_Harry and Hermione openly watched him walk out of the Great Hall._

_"So spill," Ginny demanded, while pouring a glass of pumpkin juice. "What's up with Ron?"_

_"Nothing," Hermione said, taking a large bite out of her toast._

_"Nothing?" Ginny repeated, "Oh please Hermione, like I haven't noticed the tension between the three of you this past week. All of Gryffindor has noticed."_

_Ginny made a sweeping motion and Hermione looked down into her text book, obviously trying to avoid the question._

_"Right," Ginny turned to Harry who looked away as well. He didn't really want to talk about it._

_Harry might have been angry with Ron, but it wasn't his place to tell Ginny anything. Hell, he barely knew anything himself._

_"How about we make a deal?" Ginny smiled mischievously. "You tell me what's going on with my brother, and I'll tell you what I know."_

_Hermione and Harry snapped their heads towards the girl._

_"Know about what?" Harry asked._

_Ginny shrugged._

_What possibly could Ginny know about this situation that Harry and Hermione don't? Harry caught Hermione's eye. She had the same look of bafflement on her face._

_"Look Ginny," Hermione replied. "If Ron wants you to know about what's going on, he'll tell you."_

_"No, he won't," Ginny frowned, clearly frustrated. "I'm his little sister, he doesn't tell me anything."_

_"We don't really know what's going on anyway," added Harry apologetically._

_Ginny rolled her eyes at him._

_"Oh please, Ron goes crazy for a week and then just walks out of here before returning miraculously all- better, and you are trying to tell me that you two know nothing?" Ginny scoffed._

_"Ron won't tell us anything," Harry hissed, and he heard some of the frustration bleed into his voice. "Absolutely bloody nothing. He said that he can't trust us to keep it a secret just yet."_

_Ginny's eyes went wide, visibly shocked that Ron wasn't telling his two friends what was going on. The hints Ron had dropped had been pathetic and not even worth mentioning. As far as Harry was concerned, Ron hadn't said a damn thing about what had happened to him. Ron's spiel about why it needed to remain a secret had been and still was infuriating. He didn't have to fake being mad about the lack of information, and Ginny definitely noticed the anger._

_"Well, I can certainly say that the letter was not from Susan," said Ginny._

_"Then who was it from?" Hermione asked, leaning toward Ginny just slightly._

_Ginny shrugged and said almost nonchalantly, "My guess would be the American who he left with last week."_

_That got Harry's attention._

_"I thought you said that you didn't get a good look at her?" Harry questioned._

_"I could tell by the accent, not what she looked like," Ginny snickered. "And I told you, she looked a bit like Lavender Brown. Same height, brown hair that goes a little past the shoulders."_

_Ron hadn't told them anything about who he had let left with. It had been Ginny who provided any details they had on the mystery member of the Watcher's Council. Ron wouldn't even say what she did for the Council. If Ginny hadn't originally told them that she thought it was Lavender, then Harry doubted that Ron would have said anything at all. Ron probably wouldn't have even told him that it was a female._

_"Was she young?" Hermione interjected._

_"Um, I guess," Ginny replied. "I did mistake her for Lavender."_

_Hermione pressed her lips together and Harry knew that some sort of thought raced through her mind. He wasn't quite sure why the mystery girl's age would cause a look of concentration on Hermione's face. Harry wasn't the only one who noticed._

_"I was almost fooled by Harry's little angry rant, but not by that look on your face Hermione," Ginny frowned. "I knew that you two know more than you're telling."_

_"No Ginny," Hermione answered. "What Harry said was true, we really don't know anything."_

_Ginny crossed her arms and frowned._

_"You know what? Just forget it," she picked up her bag shifted to over next to Dean Thomas. Then, as she'd done with her brother, she promptly ignored them._

_Harry turned his attention back to Hermione, whose eyes kept flickering from her plate to where Ginny had moved._

_"Well, we know that the Council took Ron from what he told us," said Hermione in a quiet voice, turning back to him. "But what if it was the Slayer who he left with?"_

_She whispered that last part excitedly._

_"It would make so much sense!" she continued. "Ginny said that the girl moved fast enough that she didn't realize that she was behind her until it was too late. The Council could have sent anyone to talk to him. But if it was the Slayer, it must have been about something big!"_

_"Well, which Slayer?" came a dreamy voice from behind Hermione. Harry looked up. Luna stood behind Hermione, her head tilted to the side almost comically. He wasn't quite sure when she'd arrived, but he acknowledged that Luna was able to wander in and out of conversations silently. "There are many of them now."_

_"Don't be ridiculous Luna," Hermione replied, her voice taking on the dictionary tone that meant she was lecturing facts. "Everyone knows that there can only be one Slayer at a time."_

_"Not anymore," said Luna. Her head tilted to the other side. "Father did an article last September about the reformation of the Council and the activation of more Slayers."_

_"That's absurd!" Hermione gaped, practically insulted by the suggestion. "I'm sure that an event like that would have been all over the Daily Prophet."_

_Harry caught the strange look on Luna's face. Was she actually offended by Hermione's comment?_

_"The Prophet did not cover the story," she answered, her voice still dreamy but now more grounded._

_"And where did your father hear about what happened?" Harry asked, trying to smooth out the now awkward tension._

_"Father interviewed a few demons on the matter. He also got in touch with a Watcher; however, the Watcher wasn't very forthcoming with information unfortunately. He tried to contact Ms. Buffy Summers, but he couldn't get a hold of her."_

_Harry hadn't the slightest clue who Buffy Summers was, but apparently she was an important person. Although, her name…Buffy… didn't exactly inspire awe or fear. It made him think of shopping and strawberry flavored lip gloss._

_"Um, Luna, do you by chance have a copy of that article?" asked Harry, actually interested. Besides, if Hermione read the article she might be able to calm down._

_"I have all of my old copies of The Quibbler locked in my trunk. Ever since Professor Umbridge declared my father's paper illegal, I've been keeping them there."_

_"Could we borrow it?" Harry really wanted to have a look at that article. Hermione looked like she was torn between being interested and believing that the article was absolute rubbish._

_"Certainly," Luna smiled. "Meet me in the Library at seven tonight, I'll have it for you then." She glided away, stopping briefly to bother two younger Hufflepuffs. Like Harry and Hermione, they didn't seem to know what had hit them._

"- Harry?"

He looked up from his breakfast. Ron stared at him expectantly.

"Harry?" Ron asked. "Are you listening?"

"No," he answered.

"Oh, um," Ron scratched behind his ear, shifting as if uncomfortable. "I just said that I was wondering if you had thought about what we had discussed earlier this week."

Harry had no idea what Ron was talking about. They hadn't talked about anything earlier this week, all they'd done was fight. And the Occlumency fight had been the largest.

"It's just that Hermione and I," Ron fidgeted again. "We thought that if we all studied it together then you wouldn't need to take lessons from Snape anymore."

"I think it's a great thought," Hermione interjected, before Harry had a chance to tell Ron where to stuff his idea. "It would be a useful talent for all of us to learn."

"And how exactly are we to study it together?" Harry asked.

"I got a book," Ron answered quickly. "It's called _Locking your Mind, the Secrets to Occlumency_. It should help us learn."

"Let me guess, Dumbledore gave you that book?" Harry questioned, once again tightening his grip on his fork. The look on Ron's face gave the answer away immediately. "Well, you can give the book right back to the old coot and tell him that I'm doing just fine on my own."

"Oh don't be thick," Ron shot back. "We just want to help you."

"No, you want to tell me what to do and I don't want to hear it," Harry spat back. "Ever since that stupid night all you've been doing is telling what I should do without telling me why."

"I can't - "

"I'll tell you what," Harry interrupted Ron, throwing his fork down. "Let's make a deal. As soon as you tell me what is going on with you, then we can study Occlumency together."

Ron looked as though he was about to say something more but thought better of it. He gave Hermione a quick glance before shoving his plate away from the edge of the table.

"Look Harry," Ron said standing up while shouldering his bag. "It can't work that way. So just think about it, okay?"

Harry didn't respond to on Ron's last words. Ron gave him one more last frown and left, tripping over his own feet in the process. Harry cracked a smile and watched Ron walk out of the Great Hall.

"He has been acting very peculiar lately, hasn't he?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned towards her and saw that she was looking at where Ron had just stormed out.

"Yes, well he is _special_ now," Harry replied. He grabbed his fork back from where it lay on the table and began picking at his eggs.

"That's just it!" she quietly insisted turning back to him. "Ever since his _visions_ he's been acting differently."

"You mean like a big fat jerk?" responded Harry.

Hermione glared at him for a moment before answering.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

Her voice sounded exasperated, like she had been dealing with whining children. Harry supposed that maybe she had a right to feel like that after the way that he and Ron had been fighting. He felt a bit sorry that Hermione had been stuck in the middle like that.

Harry paused before replying, telling himself that there was no need to take out his frustration on Hermione.

Of course he noticed the slight changes in his friend – even if it has been from a far. Perhaps because Hermione was on better terms with Ron she had noticed more?

"Well, he has been working out," Harry began looking up from his plate, "and um. . .a bit more studious."

"A bit more studious doesn't even begin to cover it," said Hermione. "He's just better at spellwork and theory. Since that night, he hasn't asked me to look over his homework, _not even once_! In the past five years that I've known him he has always asked me to look over his assignments. _Always_!"

Harry would have to agree with her on that one, it was certainly strange.

"So, what you're saying is that Ron's smarter now?" questioned Harry.

Hermione shrugged and sighed.

"Maybe – I don't know," she replied. "But there is something strange going on with Ron that he's not telling us. Something other then the information in these so called visions of his."

"He was rather vague when it came to what exactly happened to him that night. Or how or he got the visions in the first place," Harry thought out loud.

"I know," agreed Hermione leaning into the table closer to Harry. "We don't even know why the Watcher's Council sought him out? He's vague about so much information that I wouldn't be surprised if he does know what exactly is going on and he can't figure out what is acceptable to tell us. Not to mention that when he lets details slip about his visions, they are detailed. _Very detailed. Too detailed_."

She was right, some of the information that Ron let slip was a little too detailed. Why didn't Harry notice it before? For instance, Ron had said Harry's age when Voldemort finally successfully assulted his mind. How would Ron know how old Harry was – wouldn't he have just saw the event not the dates, years and ages?

"Do you think there is something more to these visions of his then he is telling us?" he asked already knowing what her answer would be.

"Definitely," she replied. "Whether it was one vision or a series of them - how in the world could he have that many in one night? He said that he knew how to defeat You-Know-Who and from the sounds of it, it happens far in the future – that would mean years of visions!"

"That seems very unlikely," Harry remarked.

"I did a little research on it and it is," Hermione confirmed. "Visions tend to come when they are needed, not all at once."

"If that's the case, it would mean that someone is messing with Ron's mind," Harry frowned. "Or that Ron is lying to us."

Hermione grimly nodded as she settled back into her chair.

"I know," she replied pausing to take a sip of her juice, "but whatever Ron saw, he believes it. And if he thinks that he's doing something absolutely right – he will do it. If Ron thinks that keeping us in the dark about this matter is the right thing to do, then there is nothing that we can say to change his mind. He's stubborn like that."

"Yeah he is," Harry replied.

"So," said Hermione a smile creeping onto her face, "we're just going to have to figure out what's going on without him."

Harry grinned at her from across the table. She was right, if Ron wasn't going to tell them what was going on, then they would just have to figure it out by themselves.

-oOo-

Distracted.

There was no other way to put it. Ron was completely out of focus.

Hermione wouldn't stop dancing around naughtily in his head. And when he wasn't occupied with thoughts of a scantily clad Hermione dancing, he was focusing on his other friend. Besides wearing a lot more clothing then his imaginary Hermione, Harry wouldn't stop arguing with him, in real life and in his thoughts. Both of them were bloody frustrating, and Ron had no clue how to handle either situation. He wanted to kiss Hermione and mash Harry's nose in with his fist. He couldn't let himself do those things of course, so instead his friends continued to dance and yell and occupy all of his mental patience.

And to top it all off, he was late for the D.A. meeting. He rushed down another hall and sprinted up a moving staircase. Dumbledore had cornered him while studying and had suggested that they chat in his office after curfew tonight. The man was harder to shake than a pit bull with rabies. The Headmaster had kindly offered to pick him up at the Gryffindor common room. After all, he didn't want to get into trouble with Filch. Ron had had to grit his teeth so hard that his jaw now ached.

He'd managed to slip away after sort-of committing, and Ron was hoping that Dumbledore would just forget all about their scheduled chat. Pausing once or twice to avoid Slytherins and their sneakiness, he wandered into the D.A. meeting slightly late and with a headache to boot.

Harry spared Ron a quick glance as he walked through the door. His friend's eyes quickly went back to Dean whose wand work he was correcting.

No hello.

No harsh words about being late.

No looks asking where he'd been.

Ron almost would have preferred any of those reactions. At least then Harry would be speaking to him, acknowledging him. Ron had never liked the silent treatment; his family was often vocal in their disputes. He was used to a lecture from his mum about doing something wrong, used to shouting at his brothers and throwing things at his sister. The silent treatment was serious, and it made the situation tense and uncomfortable.

Harry was treating Ron a bit like his mum and dad were treating Percy while he worked for Fudge. But Ron was not deluded like Percy was, he knew that what he was doing was really for the greater good.

Ron kept his eyes forward as he walked past Harry and Dean over to Neville. He could feel their eyes on his back as he passed.

"Hey Neville," he said looking around the room. "What are we working on tonight?"

"Patronuses," Neville sighed, discouraged. "I know I'm saying the incantation right, but all I seem to be getting is a silvery mist."

The boy's hand clutched at his wand, and he eyed it like a new and unknown potion he needed to brew.

They lesson had only been going twenty minutes or so, and it looked as though Hermione was the only one close to getting it.

"It's not just you," Ron said, turning back to Neville. "The more you're focused on feelings of happiness, the easier the spell will be. It's all about visualization."

Neville's eyes focused behind Ron and he turned at the slightly envious gaze. A shimmering otter scampered in circles around Hermione.

"Harry!" she shrieked, her face flushed with excitement. "Oh look I'm doing it!"

Harry smiled at Hermione.

It seemed that Hermione's success was just what the D.A. had needed to see. Ten minutes later, Hermione's otter was not the only Patronus running around the room. Animals of all shapes and sizes moved throughout the air. He even thought he might have seen a crab Patronus shuffling along out of the corner of his eye.

"Good job," Harry said to everyone, his eyes moving from person to person. "But remember, producing a Patronus in a brightly light room where you're safe is not quite the same as real world conditions."

"Oh don't be such a killjoy," said Cho who was smiling at her slivery swan-shaped Patronus soaring in the air. "They're so pretty!"

A pit of dread settled in Ron's stomach as he watched Cho's swan.

Something was wrong.

A quick glance around the room showed what it was.

Cho was alone, missing her usual partner in girly-ness.

Marietta Edgecomb was not in attendance tonight.

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," said Harry patiently, although there was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "What we really need is a boggart or something. That's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor -"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender, her wand giving off puffs of silvery vapor. It looked slightly like sparkly bathroom tissue. "And I still – can't – do it!" she added angrily.

The sinking in his feeling grew into a cold lump. No Marietta meant that Umbridge was coming.

How could Ron have been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't realize what day it was? It had snuck up on him, like a birthday of an acquaintance who expected a gift.

They needed to get out of there. But how the hell was he supposed to convince a still-pissed-as-hell Harry?

Ron made his way through the students and their Patronus'.

"I need to talk to you," he said urgently, stopping at Harry's side.

Harry frowned.

"Now?" Harry asked, gesturing to those around him. "Can't you see that I'm kind of busy teaching?"

Harry walked past him and helped Neville with his wand movements. Despite the advice that Ron had already given him; there was still only feeble wisps of silver smoked issued from his wand tip.

"You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded Neville while ignoring Ron. Ron resisted the fiftieth urge he'd had that day to hit his best friend.

"I'm trying," said Neville glumly, sort of drooping like a plant in need of water. He began to say something else to Harry but Ron yanked at his arm.

"Harry I – " Ron said, trying once more to make the prat listen.

"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" shouted Seamus, interrupting Ron's voice. "Look – ah – it's gone. . . .But it was definitely something hairy, Harry!"

"What is it Ron," Harry hissed in a sharp voice.

"Umbridge knows," he said quietly, not wanting to cause mass panic just yet.

"Knows what?"

Ron made a sweeping gesture, hoping that he wouldn't have to do anything else.

"What?!" Harry almost yelled back.

"What do you mean she knows?" asked Neville who was close enough to hear the conversation.

If the D.A. hadn't heard what Ron had said, Harry's outburst followed by Neville's question definitely caught their attention. Most of the room was looking at the three of them now, Patronus' blinking out of existence as their attention shifted. The arguments between Harry and Ron were becoming well known, and everyone was interested in just what was happening between the two of them.

"We need to get out of here," Ron stated, trying to make Harry listen.

Harry crossed his arms and glared at Ron. It was the stubborn face that Harry had started giving him since he'd insisted that Harry learn Occlumency. The tentative silence was broken by the door opening, and Ron tasted the tension in the air. All whispering had stopped and heads turned to see who had entered. Most seemed completely surprised that it wasn't Umbridge.

"Dobby?" Harry questioned, leaning down to the house elf's level. He glared at Ron for a second before focusing back on the elf. "What are you – what's wrong?"

"He's come to warn us!" Ron replied before Dobby could say anything. "Umbridge and her squad are coming. We need to get out of here!"

Harry looked at Ron then at the slightly shaking house elf.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked quietly. Apparently he wasn't ready to trust anything coming out of Ron's mouth just yet.

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry hollered, straightening up quickly. "RUN!"

While Ron watched the D.A. race towards the door, he paused to wait for Harry. Harry was the only one who had been caught that awful evening. Ron looked for the list of the members of the D.A. As long as Harry didn't get caught, and the list wasn't found, there would be nothing to worry about.

Simple, right?

"Harry! Ron, come on!" Hermione cried from the center of the crowd, trying to get out of the room.  
Harry scooped up Dobby and said something to him before he went for the door. Ron followed, pausing to yank the list off of the wall. Crumpling it up, he shoved it into his pocket. Last time, Ron had taken refuge in the library with Hermione, they hadn't run into anyone. Harry hadn't been so lucky; he'd been caught up with a tripping hex.

Once out the door, Harry put Dobby down and the house elf disappeared with a snap. Hermione was already far ahead, and Ron would bet she'd gone towards the library again.

"Come on!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm as he sprinted off to the right.

Although they'd practically done nothing but yell at each other for the past two weeks, Harry followed without another word. Too bad Ron hadn't quite figure where to run to yet. He had no idea what Harry had been thinking the first time around. When Ron paused at the end of the hall, trying to decide which way to go, Harry passed by him, taking a right. Ron followed, recognizing that they were close to a boys' bathroom.

Ron was half certain that they were going to make it when Harry stumbled to the floor. The tripping hex had come from behind a large dragon-shaped vase set against the wall. Ron had a feeling that Harry had originally gone the same direction, and that Malfoy was hiding and waiting like last time.

"Stupefy!" Ron called, aiming where the Slytherin had to be crouching. A moment later the vase clattered to the floor and as Ron skidded past, he could see Malfoy collapsed against it. Ron let himself smirk at getting the smarmy bastard.

With Malfoy down, Harry jumped to his feet and continued on running.

"Do you think he saw us?" Harry asked, slightly winded.

"Let's hope not," Ron answered. Unfortunately, with Malfoy there Umbridge was probably only seconds behind. She would have no doubt heard the noise and come running like a bat out of a nasty pink kitten hell. Even if they did make it to the boys' bathroom, Ron had a feeling it wouldn't do them any good. Their only hope was to make it to someplace more secure.

And the library was simply to far away to be considered.

Gryffindor tower was in the direction they were headed, but Ron knew the chances of them making it were not in their favor. If they were going to the common room without getting caught, they needed Harry's invisibility cloak. Of course, Ron hadn't exactly thought to bring it and he was certain that neither had Harry.

Skidding to a halt, Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into a dark area behind a statue. They where only steps away from the bathroom door.

"What are – " Harry started only to get cut off by Ron.

"Quiet," Ron held out his wand and drew a pattern with the tip on Harry's forehead, "Oblitesco."

After casting it on Harry, he did the same with himself. It was a spell that Ron had used countless times before. However, it was the first time he'd cast it as his younger self, and it felt awkward and unnatural.

"If we go slowly, keep quiet, and remain off to the side no one will notice us," he told a baffled looking Harry. "It's not quite invisibility, but it should do the trick."

Ron took the lead, not giving Harry another chance to say anything. Harry could be pissy at him later; right now they needed to get out of there. He had cast the spell just in time too, because footsteps sounded loudly behind them. Ron paused and looked back, listening quietly. The two of them had pressed themselves as close to the wall as humanly possible. Umbridge rushed around the corner, not quite jogging but close. Her hands were fisted like two blocks of raw meat, and her face was red with exertion. She pushed her way into the boys' bathroom, not seeming to care that she obviously didn't belong. The slamming door behind her caused both boys to jump.

"I KNOW THAT YOU'RE IN HERE!" her voice bellowed past the door.

Harry gave Ron a look of relief before they continued on. They got away from the bathroom as quick as they dared, each careful to make as little noise as possible. Only once did another of Umbridge's spies pass them. It was Warrington, snot faced little shite, who no doubt was looking for possible escapees.

"Finite Incantatem," Ron ended the spell outside of the fat lady portrait.

Harry muttered the password and entered, not meeting Ron's eyes. The common room was full of the Gryffindor D.A. members.

"You made it!" Ginny exclaimed, surprised and thrilled.

Practically everyone sighed in relief.

"Did everyone make it back?" Harry scanned the room.

"We're still waiting on Hermione," replied Neville nervously.

Ron's insides clenched. How could she not be back yet? They had made it back absolutely fine last time.

Ron's dismal thoughts were interrupted by the portrait opening behind him.

"Oh thank Merlin," Ron inadvertently let out as Hermione stepped through.

"What took you so long?" asked Ginny.

"I was pretending to do homework in the library so I pulled out my potions essay and got caught up working on it," Hermione snorted. "Parkinson was the one who 'found' me. She was all excited that she had caught one until she looked down at what I was doing. Realizing that I had a half an essay written that was assigned today she deflated a little. It's a good thing she didn't notice me working on it during lunch or else I would have been in a lot of trouble. Madam Prince told Pansy I had been working there for hours! Whether she actually thought I was or just covering for me I haven't the foggiest, but I am grateful."

"Dean and I were there too," Seamus put in. "And she said the same thing about us to Parkinson. That woman's a saint; I can't believe how horrible I used to think she was for telling me to be quiet and to stop scribbling in books. I think for payment I'm not going to talk in the library for the rest of my life." He paused and then added, "Or at least a week."

There were a few chuckles of relief at Seamus' lame joke. People contributed in excited voices their own stories of escape, but the tense atmosphere remained. They still didn't know if members from the other houses had been caught. Ron knew that they were in the clear, but even he felt a little nervous. Who was to say that things hadn't happened differently?

Ron headed up to the boys' dormitory, passing by people high-fiving and laughing. He was just so bloody tired. With Umbridge's attempt to bring down the D.A. failed, she would no doubt be in a foul mood tomorrow morning. Joy. But no matter how depressing that thought was, it didn't seem to phase Ron one bit. Ron had changed something in the past and as insignificant as it was, it was a sign that he could change larger events. Dumbledore was still at Hogwarts.

Ron paused on the top step. Speaking of Dumbledore, he was supposed to meet the Headmaster tonight. Well, that meeting was certainly cancelled. Umbridge was probably in his office right now, trying to convince him that she knew who was involved in a 'dangerous organization.' Marietta was her only proof, and that had been easily taken care of the first time around by Kingsley.

That should happen this time around again, right?

Of course it would. If Kingsley didn't modify the girl's memories, then Dumbledore surely would.

Ron changed into his pajamas, and enjoyed the feeling of warm flannel. It was a good thing he was quick about it because not a second later, Hermione and Harry came through the door. They didn't look happy.

"Okay," stated Harry. "Why didn't you tell us about that earlier? Like this morning or something, it might have been useful information to have then."

"Harry please," Hermione said, exasperated. "I thought we were going to ask nicely?"

Harry's glare was becoming a familiar expression to Ron.

"Sorry," Ron muttered. "I've had a lot on my mind lately."

It was a lame excuse even to his ears.

"Oh come on," Harry frowned. "What, the disbandment of the D.A. was not important enough for you to remember?"

"Don't be an idiot," replied Ron. "It's not like I have an appointment book where all of the events are neatly jotted down on the date it happens! I knew everything was going to work out all right in the end! Hell even if you were caught it was still going to work out just fine!"

"Stop it you two," Hermione interjected, casting nervous glances between the two of them. "You need to put an end to the fighting. Harry, perhaps Ron would have remembered to say something earlier if you weren't glowering at him every time you were in the same room. And Ron, you haven't been doing anything to make the situation better."

"And what should I be doing Hermione?" Ron shot back. "I already told you that I can't tell you two about what's going to happen yet."

"Oh, not this shite again," Harry stormed over to his bed and sat down.

"Maybe Ron, you can be just a little more understanding about our side," replied Hermione. "Maybe you could tell us some of the minor things that have nothing to do with You-Know-Who? You're asking us to trust you without giving us anything. What are we supposed to think?"

"How about that you're my friends, and that's all that should matter," Ron answered, his voice harsh and raw.

Hermione sighed and sat down next to him.

"We are, but it's hard for us and you're not making it any easier. How can we make sense of anything if you refuse to give any information? Perhaps if you talk about some of what you saw, it would be easier for us to understand," said Hermione.

Harry didn't add anything to Hermione's speech, but Ron knew that he agreed with every word that she said. Ron knew that Hermione was right. She was always right it seemed.

"Originally, Dobby warns the D.A. and we all ran," began Ron. "Harry got caught by Malfoy and was dragged into the Headmaster's office. Umbridge wanted to expel Harry for his involvement as well as all of the other members of the D.A. She would have gotten her way if Dumbledore hadn't taken the blame for the organization. He said that it was his own personal army that he was raising against the Ministry."

It seemed that Harry and Hermione weren't actually expecting him to give any details. They both stared at him with their mouths slightly open, a look of shock on their faces.

Hermione was the first to come out of it. "See, now that wasn't so hard was it?"

"What happened to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"He got sacked," Ron smiled. "I wish I could have been there for his escape, it must have been amazing to watch him disappear right under the Ministry's noses."

"Sacked?" questioned Hermione. "Does McGonagall take over as Headmaster?"

Ron shook his head.

"I wish," he replied. "Umbridge runs the school."

Harry and Hermione's faces went pale at the thought of that toad being in charge.

"God that would be awful," whispered Hermione, she actually looked a bit sick.

Harry nodded in agreement.

"But it all worked out in the end. Dumbledore was back for our sixth year," Ron added lightly.

The conversation ended with that, as the rest of their dorm mates came in to get ready for bed. Hermione went red in the face for a second before excusing herself. Ron watched her leave as he settled himself into bed. Pulling the curtain shut, he was thankful at Dean, Seamus, and Neville's timing. Ron wasn't ready to answer anymore questions. But hopefully they had taken a step in the right direction. A lot of what Hermione had said made sense. While it might have gotten through his head, Ron knew that whether Harry understood or not could be a completely different story.

-oOo-

Ron had to say that McGonagall's voice was not the most pleasant thing to wake up to. He had been having a good dream too, and her harsh and brisk tones were definitely disturbing.

He sleepily pulled back his curtains to see what all of the commotion was about. It was still dark outside, and he couldn't have been asleep for more then a few hours. Ron saw that Harry was also awake, glasses askew on his face and looking as befuddled as he felt

."What's this about professor?" Ron yawned.

"The Headmaster needs to see you two in his office," she replied, trying to hide her anger, but not doing a very good job at it. Her hands were practically ringing out part of her robe and Ron thought that if he listened hard enough, he could hear her teeth grinding. "I suggest you two to get dressed."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I am not at liberty to say," McGonagall frowned. "But I'm sure you two know what this is about. Take your time getting dressed, the Headmaster is trying to stall as much as possible."

Ron and Harry shared a look. Only one person got Minerva McGonagall this mad, and that was Dolores Umbridge.

They were caught.

"Shite," Ron mumbled loud enough for his Professor to hear him, but she didn't seem to care.

"I'll be waiting in the common room," McGonagall said, closing the door behind her as she left.

"Malfoy must have gotten a better look at us then I thought," Ron said, slipping a jumper over his nightshirt.

"What should we do?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore will think of something," Ron answered. He threw on his trousers from earlier in the day and turned to Harry. Glasses still askew, he fought to pull on two crumpled up socks.

As Ron fidgeted with his jumper he wondered if being kicked out would be such a bad thing. It would give him time to plan with Faith and gather Horcruxes. However, his family would be furious with him. He could already hear the beginning of his mother's shouting and disappointed voice.

Ron knew that he could survive being kicked out of school, but he wasn't so sure about Harry.

The press would be brutal on his friend, and Harry would probably have to go back to the Dursley's. There was little guarantee that he would be able to stay at Grimmauld Place.

They walked with McGonagall to the Headmaster's office in silence. Ron let McGonagall set a slow pace. If the Headmaster needed some additional time, Ron would be happy to provide it.

Ron knew that everything hinged on what Malfoy would say. Ron was sure that Marietta's memory had been altered, or else they would have been brought to Umbridge much sooner. But Malfoy was a tricky bastard, and Ron wasn't quite sure what to expect from the loathsome Slytherin. McGonagall paused at the foot of the gargoyle statue and spoke in a quiet and firm voice.

"Play ignorant," she said. "And follow along with what the Headmaster says. We can not afford to have the two of you expelled." She turned her attention to the statue. "Frizzing Whizbee."

The statue moved aside with a groan and they started up the stairs. Fudge's booming voice echoed in the stone hallway. Obviously, the idiot did not agree with something that the Headmaster had said. McGonagall frowned at the shut door that led into Dumbledore's office.

"Good luck," she said before rapping with the griffon knocker.

Without waiting for a reply, she entered the room. Ron admired her for the resolve and strength she always seemed to exude. Even though this year had been incredibly difficult, she hadn't lost her sharp wit or equally sharp tongue. Harry followed a few steps behind her. Ron shut the door and let his eyes adjust to the lower light.

Fudge he didn't need to see in order to recognize him. Although, now that Harry and Ron were present, he'd stopped yelling at the Headmaster and had settled for a predatory grin towards the two boys. Besides him stood Ron's brother, Percy holding a quill and parchment – he was obviously Fudge's secretary for the evening. A look of distain was directed towards Ron as he shook his head slowly. Despite the fact that Percy would eventually regret his decision to side with Fudge, Ron couldn't help thinking that he was still a twat.

Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dawlish were standing on either side of the office, practically flanking where Ron and Harry came to a halt.

Dumbledore sat at his desk, his facial expression as calm as Ron had ever seen.

Umbridge stood off to the right side of Dumbledore's desk. She was smiling broadly as her gaze shifted between Ron and Harry, coming to rest on the latter of the two. He could still see the redness in her cheeks from earlier.

And lastly, there was Draco Malfoy, arms crossed and hair perfectly placed. He had an expression of pure smugness on his face. Ron gave him a Snape worthy sneer in return. He would have also flipped him the bird, but didn't think that would have helped the situation in any way.

"Well, well, well," Fudge said, his hands rubbing together.

Ron could see Harry giving Fudge a look of disgust, but Ron tried for a look of confusion.

"Minister Fudge?" Ron questioned in the most innocent voice he could muster. "Excuse me sir, but what is this all about?"

Fudge's grin faltered, clearly at a loss. That was not the greeting he had expected.

"What is this all about?" he echoed. "You _don't_ know why you are here?"

Ron shrugged as Harry said in an equally innocent voice, "No. Professor McGonagall only said that Headmaster Dumbledore needed to have a word with us."

Ron spared a glance at the Headmaster, who was smiling encouragingly at them. He gave a slight nod.

"So you don't know why the two of you are here?" Fudge repeated.

"Sorry Minister," Ron replied with a small shrug. "No idea."

"Really," Fudge's predatory grin returned. "You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"No," Harry answered.

"Or Ministry decrees?" Fudge continued.

"Not that I can think of," Ron answered.

Fudge's grin faded away and his face turned a dark shade of red. Ron tried to look very confused back at him. He hoped that Fudge only had Malfoy's testimony, and Ron was planning to shoot as many holes in that as possible.

"So it is news to you that an illegal student organization was discovered within this school?" Fudge angrily spat.

"Really?" Ron replied, trying to sound intrigued.

"What?" Harry dripped innocence like an ice cream cone left in the sun. "I didn't know that."

"Oh yes," Umbridge broke in, apparently eager to try to catch Ron and Harry off guard. "A student organization that has been practicing dangerous spells and material that the Ministry of Magic has deemed unsafe to learn in a school environment. And you two have not only been linked to this organization but also have seriously wounded one of those who have been trying to protect the rest of the students from your illegal activities."

"Excuse me?" Ron didn't have to act surprise this time. He was not aware of injuring anybody. "But I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Well," Umbridge practically sang, and turned to Fudge. "As you can see Minister Fudge, questioning these two is pointless. We have already heard Mr. Malfoy's recall of the events of this evening. It not only places both Potter and Weasley at the scene of the crime, but also has Weasley seriously assaulting a fellow student. They are a danger to the school and need to be immediately removed as soon as possible."

"I didn't do anything of the sort!" Ron insisted, wishing that Malfoy and Umbridge would take a long walk off a short cliff.

"Are you saying that you did not throw a hex at Malfoy, knocking him unconscious – leaving him to bleed to death?"

Ron almost shouted back that it had been a stunner and there had been no blood, but he stopped himself.

"Well, it wasn't me," Ron replied. "He probably just tripped and fell."

He muttered the last part, but Malfoy still heard him.

"It was him Professor," Malfoy looked at Umbridge. "Potter came around the corner first. I then heard another set of steps and Weasley's voice. I'm sure of it."

Ron really should have cast that spell nonverbally. Saying the incantation was something his sixteen year old self would do.

"Don't worry Mr. Malfoy," Fudge said. "We believe you, an honest man - just like your father."

"So you assume just because these two are running in the hallway that they were in this 'secret meeting'?" McGonagall snorted. "That's quite a stretch. Teenagers run in the halls all the time and while it might be unsafe, it is hardly punishable."

"Why are you still here?" Umbridge asked, as if noticing McGonagall for the first time. "You have fetched your students for us, and now you are excused to leave."

"As head of their household I have say as to what punishment, _if any_ should be assigned to my students," McGonagall icily replied.

"Not anymore," Umbridge smiled. "This is a blatant attack on the Ministry and as such, you have no say in the matter."

"Ladies please. Until this matter has been made official Ministry of Magic business, it still follows under Hogwarts law," Dumbledore finally spoke. His next words were aimed toward Fudge and Umbridge. "And, I have yet to hear any evidence that this meeting has taken place and that a Ministry decree has been broken."

"Oho," Fudge snorted. "And what do you call Ms. Edgecombe's testimony earlier about a secret meeting in the Room of Requirement? Or Willy Widdershins' words about a meeting held at the Hog's Head - about Potter persuading students to join an illegal society!"

"As we previously discussed Minister," Dumbledore calmly replied. "Ms. Edgecombe could only speak of a possible meeting happening tonight. She quite clearly indicated that she knew of no such earlier meetings. And as for the meeting at the Hog's Head, it had happened two days before the Ministry decree was put into effect, and therefore was not illegal at the time."

Fudge began yelling something back at Dumbledore. Ron had the feeling that this was the fight that they had walked in on earlier. Umbridge and McGonagall had begun to argue amongst themselves as well. Ron caught Harry's eye and smiled slightly at him.

Harry returned it.

The most that Umbridge could pin on them was running in the hall and hexing Malfoy. Neither was expulsion material. Ron was feeling rather proud of himself.

Fudge's words made him crash back down to reality.

"Who knows what harmful spells Potter has been teaching in this group of his! I will not allow such a threat to the Ministry run around this school uncontrolled. I have already put in the request for a Legilimens or Veritaserum to be used! This situation has gone too far! A prominent board member's child was in the hospital wing because of Potters dangerous actions! I will know who is in league with Potter and they will all be punished for trying to upstart the Ministry!"

"You are going too far Fudge," Dumbledore replied. "These are just children here and you only have hypothetical proof of your claims. Wizengamot will not agree with your request. It is a violation of wizards' rights."

"That is where you are mistaken! I don't need all of Wizengamot to agree with me!" Fudge smile was sickly wide. "We are facing a direct challenge to the Ministry! I only need five signatures and I can be assured that I will get them!"

Ron tried not to panic.

This was bad.

Very, very, very bad.

"But that's preposterous!" replied McGonagall. "They are only children. There is no way that any sane person would agree to such measures! You are using interrogation techniques that are meant for criminals! They are teenagers!"

"Teenagers," snorted Fudge. "Adults, it doesn't matter. Anyone who directly challenges _my_ authority will be treated as the dangerous terrorist they are! I will not allow a direct challenge to my Ministry go unpunished!"

Ron had officially made things worse, much worse. It looked like those few hours that Fudge had gained had been used to create a plan. Could he really get the council's permission for either technique to be used?

Of course he could. Ron was not naïve enough to think that Wizengamot was Death Eater free. Plenty of Death Eaters and regular Ministry workers would jump at the chance to pry into Harry Potter's mind. Fuckers.

Ron might be able to fight his way out of the office. . . . But it would be messy and awkward and there were simply too many people. McGonagall had not taken his or Harry's wand away when they came here, and no one had asked for them otherwise.

A mistake on their part.

He looked over at Percy who was scribbling notes as fast as he could.

Percy, Fudge, and Umbridge were close enough that he could probably risk casting a spell in such small quarters. That just left Dawlish.

Ron had absolutely no clue how skilled the man was. But as an Auror, Dawlish probably was no push over.

He would have to hit the man fast, grab Harry and run. Ron couldn't leave Harry here to deal with this mess. Just the idea left him sick to his stomach. They could figure out what they were going to do later, once they got away.

Turning towards the Headmaster, he caught Dumbledore's eye. Ron had the feeling that the man already had an idea of what Ron was planning. And from the look on the Headmaster's face, he was giving it a big 'no.'

Damn it!

Ron wished that he'd told Dumbledore about this event. Then maybe, just maybe, they could have thought of a way to get out of this. Dumbledore had to understand how dangerous this situation was for Ron, if either of those methods where used on him. . . . Oh Merlin, the consequences would be disastrous.

Ron felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as a thought slid into his head.

Dumbledore needed to take the blame.

Just the thought made him shiver slightly, but he knew immediately how true it was.

As much as Fudge wanted Harry, he wanted Dumbledore even more.

What Ron needed was something that would turn everyone's attention back to the old wizard.

The list! He knew it should still be in his pant pocket from earlier that day!

He hadn't thrown it away after cramming it into his pocket, he hadn't even thought of it. It should still be there.

Casually reaching into his pocket, he could feel the crinkled parchment jammed into the fabric. But how was he to get it to Fudge without making it obvious?

Ron turned his attention to Dumbledore, who had seemed to notice the change in Ron. He just hoped that the Headmaster would be quick on the uptake.

How was he going to get someone to notice it? And who could he rope in?

Harry was out of the question. Umbridge, Fudge, and Percy were too caught up arguing with Dumbledore. McGonagall was busy siding with Dumbledore.

Kingsley was not paying attention to Ron.

Neither was Dawlish.

But Malfoy was.

As soon as Ron caught Malfoy's eye, the blonde gave him a thin lipped smile. It was perfect. Ron pulled his hand out of his pocket quickly, hoping that the simple action would invoke the desired response out of the Slytherin.

Malfoy's smile grew even larger.

"Professor Umbridge," the Slytherin squealed like a pig. "Weasley's hiding something in his pocket!"

The arguing stopped and everyone paused to look at him.

"What?" Ron replied, trying to sound not guilty/guilty. "No I'm not."

"Show me," commanded Umbridge, moving towards him.

"See," Ron turned out his left pocket. "There's nothing in there."

"Not that one," Malfoy gleamed. Duh, Malfoy. Ron wanted to roll his eyes. "The other pocket."

Ron didn't have to fake being nervous, for he was already. Hesitantly, he pulled the D.A. list out of his trousers.

"You mean this?" Ron anxiously asked. "It's just a spare piece of parchment."

Umbridge snatched the paper out of his hands and hastily smoothed it out. Ron watched her eyes light.

"Look at what we have here," Umbridge beamed, as she handed the parchment over to Fudge. "It appears to be a complete list of members."

"Excellent," Fudge exclaimed. "Excellent, Dolores. And . . . by thunder . . ."

Fudge looked up at Dumbledore. The Headmaster had gotten up from his desk and stood slightly in front of Percy.

"See what they've named themselves?" said Fudge quietly. "_Dumbledore's Army_."

Dumbledore gave Ron a quick glance before taking the parchment from Fudge's hands. As he read through the list, he remained silent. Ron prayed that the Headmaster would react the same as he had before. Smiling, Dumbledore looked up.

"Well, the game is up," he said sounding like someone's grandfather. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius – or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

The room was silent.

"Statement?" Fudge stuttered out, obviously having no clue as to what was happening. "What – I don't –?"

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, as if explaining it to a five year old. "Not Potter's Army. _Dumbledore's Army_."

"But – but –"

Ron watched Fudge as he finally connected all of the dots. He backed up, tripping over the corner of a rug. Unfortunately, he caught himself before he clamored to the floor.

"You . . ." Fudge stammered. "You're behind this?"

"That's right," answered Dumbledore cheerily. Ron wanted to do a jig.

"This group has been formed under your orders?" Fudge's voice was getting stronger the longer he talked. "They're – they're your army?"

"We were supposed to have our first meeting tonight," Dumbledore replied. "Merely to see who was interested in joining. I see now that perhaps I should have been more careful with my plans."

"I knew it!" Fudge cried in triumph. "I knew that you've always envied my position! I can't believe! I came here for Potter and instead –"

"Instead you get to arrest me," Dumbledore finished Fudge's sentence, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"

"No – Professor Dumbledore!" Harry had finally found his voice.

"Be quiet Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," replied Dumbledore calmly.

"Yes, shut up, Potter!" ordered Fudge. "You've got all that, right Weasley? His confession and everything?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" Percy replied eyes frantically scanning the page. Twat, twat, twat. "Everything sir! It's all here!"

"Very well, then," said Fudge barely able to hide his joy. "Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the _Daily Prophet_ at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"

Percy dashed out of the room.

Harry looked at Ron with a horrified expression on his face.

"I'm sorry Harry," Ron said barely audible over Fudge's ranting. "But I had to – I couldn't let –"

Ron let his words die off, unable to finish his sentence. Not with the way that Harry was looking at him.

"You will be escorted back to the Ministry of course," Fudge turned back to Dumbledore, "where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

"Ah," said Dumbledore kindly, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

Ron heard Dumbledore speak and Fudge's reply, but the words went in one ear and out the other.

He had failed.

Utterly, completely failed.

He wasn't worried that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to escape the office. Ron knew that the Headmaster would get out fine and elude capture until his name was cleared. He did not fail in that.

No, he had failed in changing something.

It might have been a small event. One that would have probably had minimal effect on the years to come, but he had still failed. Failed miserably.

If he couldn't even change one stupid simple event, how could he possibly alter what was to come?

Dumbledore's death.

The rising of a demon army.

Or even finding that last Horcrux.

Was it all set in stone?

Was his trip back for nothing?

Harry had every right to look at him like that. Like he was a failure.

A bright light suddenly flashed and a loud noise sounded like a gunshot. Ron jerked his attention back to the present. The floor trembled. Before he could figure out what was happening, an arm reached around him and flung him to the floor. Bright lightening filled the air above him followed by a cloud of dust.

From his position, he could barely see anything.

But he could hear lots of commotion, breaking glass and a few curse words.

As the dust settle, Ron could see a figure approaching.

"Are you alright?" It was Dumbledore.

Ron realized that it was McGonagall who had shoved him and Harry to the ground. Apparently Draco was not worth helping, and that thought gave him a vicious sort of satisfaction. The blonde boy rested a few feet away, unconscious with the rest of the Ministry workers. He hoped the shite had gotten a concussion.

"We're fine," McGonagall said, standing up and dragging Ron and Harry with her.

For an elderly lady she was sure strong.

The office was a mess, littered with furniture bits, paper, and unconscious bodies.

"Professor Dumbledore –" began Ron, feeling the need to explain himself.

"Listen Ron," he said quickly. "Thank you. If it was not for your actions, the consequences could have been disastrous."

Dumbledore turned to Harry.

"Harry," he said. "You must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it every night before sleeping so that you can close you mind to bad dreams – you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me –"

Dawlish stirred, and Dumbledore seemed to pause mid-sentence. He quickly grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him close.

"Listen to Professor Snape and listen to Ron. During this difficult time, he will try to help you the best he can."

As Dumbledore spoke, Ron watched Harry react in a very alarming way. A look of almost pure hatred encompassed Harry's features. Dumbledore though, did not seem to notice, or perhaps wasn't bothered by the reaction. Or maybe Dumbledore had been expecting such a reaction from Harry. Ron wasn't sure, but he knew it wasn't good.

Dumbledore and Fawkes left in a flash of fire with only a moment to spare.

"Where is he?" roared Fudge, struggling to get himself back up from the ground. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" Kingsley yelled.

"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" Umbridge spoke forcefully. "You can't inside the school –"

"The stairs!" cried Dawlish, arm raising in the direction of the door.

The three of them ran from the office in a tangle of limbs and robes.

Fudge glared at McGonagall before saying, "Well, Minerva I'm afraid that this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"You think so, do you?" replied McGonagall crisply.

Fudge ignored her and continued to look around the office, stopping as he came to Harry and Ron.

"You better get those two off to bed," said Fudge, before smiling nastily. "And just think Dumbledore was going to let you two take the blame for this. Perhaps you will choose your idols more carefully next time Potter."

With those words he left.

Harry did not say anything to Ron on the walk back to the dormitory. Nor did he say anything as they were bombarded with questions upon returning.

Ron had thought that after these past two weeks, Harry couldn't get any angrier with him.

Boy was he ever wrong.

-oOo-

_Faith stood in a field. It was dark, with only the moon and stars to light up the night. But as a slayer, Faith didn't need any more light to take in the scene around her._

_She recognized where she was instantly._

_Dead bodies littered the ground._

_Slayers._

_Various demons._

_Death Eaters._

_Order members._

_Faith was standing in a field of the English countryside, not to far out from London.. _

_She remembered this battle like it had happened yesterday because of one very important detail. One that made this battle impossible to forget._

_A figure approached through the debris and bodies, its steps quick and sure. _

_She was short, blonde, and carried a sword._

_Faith instantly recognized Buffy._

_But Buffy was dead. She'd never come home from this battle._

_"Buffy?" Faith let the question hang in the air. Not quite sure what to say about this strange development. It felt like she'd stumbled into an old episode of the Twilight Zone._

_"Faith," she replied back evenly._

_They stood there for a moment, Faith not sure what she was supposed to do or say, before Buffy brought up her sword._

_Faith had seen Buffy attack countless of times, and she dodged out of the way as the sword cut through where she had been only seconds before._

_"Buffy! What the fuck?" she rolled out of the way as another swing barely missed her, picking the sword off a nearby corpse up as she came to her feet._

_"It was destined to be this way Faith," Buffy said, attacking again. Faith brought up her sword to block. "We are too different. The Slayer and the Imposter."_

_Buffy lunged again, and Faith jumped to the right and brought her sword up. The two pieces of metal scraped together with a shing. _

_"Guess which one you are?"_

_"Buffy?" Faith questioned, as she blocked the other girl's attacks. "I thought we got over this? I thought that we were okay? I thought –"_

_"Forget what you think you know, especially between you and me," Buffy replied, her voice still remarkably even._

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"You're not one of us Faith," Buffy smiled. "You never were and you never will be."_

_Buffy's attacks were coming faster and Faith stayed on the defense, not yet ready to acknowledge what was happening. Not yet ready to comprehend that Buffy was trying to kill her. Definitely not ready to try and kill Buffy._

_"Open your eyes Faith," Buffy head butted Faith, and the pain was very real. She felt warmth on her chin and lips, tasted something like iron and hot metal, and knew it was blood. "You are alone."_

_Buffy kicked at her shin, and Faith could feel herself start to lose her balance. She tumbled to the wet earth and rolled out of the way. She could feel the mud on her back the leaves in her hair. The air around them was still, the battle had been over for a long time. Her breath, coming out in sharp puffs, cut through the quiet. Buffy's blade dug into the ground, where she had just been, before pulling out quickly. As she ripped it from the earth, Faith jumped to her feet and kicked Buffy as hard as she could. It had been instinct to attack, but she needed a moment to try and collect her bearings. Buffy landed a few feet away, sword-less and winded. But she didn't remain that way for long. Another weapon, a bloodied ax, lay close by. _

_Buffy picked it, leapt to her feet, and swung it in an arc. Faith lunged forward, grabbing Buffy's arm with her left hand, and swung her own sword up. Faith felt it slide through flesh and bone._

_Noiselessly, Buffy's blade fell to the ground._

_Oh God. . . Oh no . . . ._

_Faith pulled the sword out of Buffy's side and dropped it as if the handle burned. The wound was deep, and blood ran thickly out of it. It was a wound that not even a slayer could heal from. _

_"I didn't. . . .I'm sorry. . ." Faith stammered, and helped Buffy to the ground._

_The earth was cold beneath her, and Buffy, though still alive, felt cold and stiff in her arms. Faith's arms were slick with blood, her hand pressed against the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding._

_Buffy smiled._

_"Did you expect that it could end any other way?" Buffy whispered._

Faith's eyes shot open. Half expecting to still feel the wet earth beneath her, she was instead surprisingly warm and comfortable.

Bed. That's where she was. She was in bed.

It was a dream.

Buffy was alive.

She hadn't actually said those things.

And Faith hadn't. . . .Faith hadn't actually killed her.

A figure groaned and rolled over next to her. Normally she would take the time to admire Robin's chiseled abs, but she had other things on her mind.

It hadn't been an ordinary dream, she knew that without a doubt. It had been a Slayer dream. A confusing, horrifying, Slayer dream.

Faith was determined not to let it happen.

No fucking way.

She needed to figure it out, and she needed to do it quickly.

Faith rolled her feet over the side of the bed, knowing that there was no way she'd be able to sleep longer. She glanced at the clock.

4:53am.


	9. Making Sense of it All

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: **I have just pick up a second beta - the talented angrymonkey. I am ecstatic to have him helping and his advice has already been put to good use on this chapter. So, my other beta (Fuu43) and I give him a big welcome to the team!

**

* * *

Mein Teil**

Chapter 8: Making Sense of it All

* * *

Ron was at Quidditch practice, and would be for quite a while. The Gryffindor team practiced on a set schedule, and Harry and Hermione knew exactly when he'd be gone and for how long. They had at least an hour before he shuffled back, sore and sweaty and exhausted from the numerous exercises he'd been put through. They planned to rifle through his things, and as soon as he'd left they'd gathered up the books they'd been 'studying' from and headed upstairs. One month prior, Harry might have felt a bit guilty rummaging through his mate's trunk, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And quite frankly, Harry couldn't think about Ron without seeing red. He was angry enough that the invasion of privacy didn't faze him. Behind him, he could hear Hermione closing and locking the door to the boys' room. Her footsteps approached and she came to a halt beside him. She peered over his shoulder and watched him fiddle with Ron's trunk.

Much to Harry's dismay, it didn't want to open. There was an annoying lock that Harry hadn't ever noticed on Ron's trunk before. Stupid new addition.

"It's locked?" Hermione asked, then added in a confused voice. "Since when does Ron lock his trunk?"

"Alohamora," Harry said, but the spell seemed to have no effect. "No clue, he's never locked it before. Although, he probably should have considering the twins."

Hermione squatted next to him and touched the lock. Harry had to scoot over to make room for her. She flipped it up and examined the back.

"Ginny has this exact same lock on her trunk," she nodded. "Its password activated. You put your wand in the keyhole and say the password in order to get it open."

Harry sighed to himself. Great, they could be guessing all night. He stuck his wand in the lock and frowned. Where to even start? Ron's favorite food, color, or class? He decided to start his guessing with the most obvious.

"Chudley Cannons," he said, and to his surprise, the lock popped open with a tiny click. "Well, that was easy."

"Yeah," Hermione said, sounding slightly disappointed in Ron. "He should have chosen something more obscure."

Opening the trunk, he jumped as the hinges creaked loudly. Harry had to remind himself that Ron was busy and that there was no way he'd know they'd gone through his stuff. Ron wouldn't be pleased if he found his two friends rummaging through his things. But – this needed to be done. After what had happened with the D.A. and Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione had even more questions. The two of them had demanded answers, but Ron had been his usual stubborn old self. They had argued with him for two days, pestering and prodding him for answers, wanting to know about things like the strange spell he'd used to hide Harry and Ron from Umbridge. Or they pressed him about other information, what his visions had told him about how to get rid of Umbridge and where Dumbledore had went. Ron had avoided, refused to answer, and Harry had felt his anger fester. They weren't speaking at the moment, and the two walked on needles around each other. It was aggravating, but nothing new considering how the rest of the month had been going.

Harry and Hermione knew that they would have to do something drastic. While Harry wasn't one for spying on his friends, there hadn't seemed to be any other option. Hermione had suggested going through Ron's things in a sort of offhanded manner, but the idea hadn't died as they'd considered others. In fact, it had grown more and more practical sounding. Hermione was right; Ron had made up his mind, thought he was doing the proper thing, and wouldn't budge. So, if they wanted any answers about what was going on, they would have to get them on their own.

Harry knew what they needed to find first, and even now he eyed the open trunk, hoping the letter Ron had gotten from his 'cousin' was somehow left in plain sight. Hopefully, that letter would give them some kind of clue. They needed to plan ahead, to develop a strategy. That letter was the first step to figuring out Ron's weirdness. Beyond that, Harry hoped that Hermione knew what else to look for, because he had no idea.

Pulling out various familiar jumpers of Ron's, he waited for something to catch his attention. He wasn't sure if looking would do much good, and he hoped any clues were shiny and marked with big red X's.

"Oh," Hermione said faintly, her face turning a bright red. She was holding a magazine and seemed both fascinated and repulsed. Harry sat up a little straighter and leaned forward. He caught a glimpse of a blonde haired witch on the cover. Naked, she perched on top of a broom in a precarious position. One leg was bent up and her arms were behind her head. _'Naked, Ready, and Wanting a Ride,'_ said the caption below the picture. The witch on the cover shook her head, and winked. Harry had seen that magazine before, not that he was going to tell Hermione. Ron had nicked it from Fred and George this past holiday break.

Hermione hastily shoved the magazine underneath one of the jumpers that had been discarded on the floor.

"Boys," she muttered, as she continued to rummage through Ron's trunk. Harry wisely decided to remain quiet.

Harry pulled out a pair of trousers, intending to move them out of the way, when he felt something that had been shoved up one of the legs. Reaching inside, he removed a flat cardboard box. It was blue and yellow with the words 'Skin-o-Graft' written on the front.

"Look at this Hermione," Harry showed her the box. "It says _'Never have anyone see that unsightly scar again!_"

Harry flipped the box over to find more writing on the back.

"_Great for all burns, scars, and embarrassing birthmarks. Easy to apply and only takes minutes to set!_" he read aloud then passed the box to Hermione. "Ron doesn't have any burns, scars or embarrassing birthmarks, does he?"

"Not that I know of, but you have probably seen more of him than I," Hermione replied, her cheeks still slightly stained. She peered inside the open box and pulled out thin sheets of cardboard. "It looks like it's been used."

Most of the sheets were covered in a transparent film that reminded Harry of skin. Two of them weren't covered in anything, and had obviously been used. A folded piece of paper fell out of the box. Harry picked it up and opened it.

"Its directions," he said, then briefly read it over. "You just cut a piece of it off and put it over whatever you want covered up and it blends into your skin."

Hermione frowned and looked back into the trunk. It was practically empty. Just a few discarded chocolate frog cards and broken quills lay at the bottom.

"At least we found one usefully thing," she sighed, stuffing the contents back into the box and handing it to Harry.

Harry absently nodded and went back to repacking the trunk. Perhaps Ron had been using the Skin-o-Graft stuff for ages, and they'd only now just noticed it. Harry snorted to himself. Or more likely it was being used for that burn from three or so weeks ago, it probably hadn't healed properly. Harry had never considered Ron vain, and didn't think something like a scar would bother him so much. But Harry had seen a whole new side of Ron these past weeks, and was unsure of what to expect.

"The letter!" Hermione interrupted his thoughts, "I found it."

He took his gaze off of the trunk and turned it towards her. Hermione sat with the dirty magazine lying open in front of her. She held the letter in her hand. Reading rapidly, she ignored the naked ladies blowing kisses at her. The busty women distracted Harry though, especially the red head. Merlin she was gorgeous.

"It was in the magazine," she said, handing the letter to him. Harry cleared his throat and took it from her, hoping she hadn't noticed how red he was in the face. He briefly wondered why she'd been looking through the magazine in the first place, but his curiosity wasn't worth the risk of her wrath.

The letter was short and definitely written by an American – one that had no idea how to sound French.

Ginny was right, there was no way that it was written by her cousin.

"What do you think it could mean?" Harry asked, giving the letter back to Hermione.

She read through the letter again and pressed her lips together.

"I'll bet you anything that they're meeting on the 27th at 10:02 in the Shrieking Shack," she replied decisively.

"That's only a few days away," said Harry. He took the letter back and scanned it. Now it was easy to see how she had come to that conclusion. The letter hadn't been coded at all.

"We'll just have to follow him and see what this meeting is all about," Hermione smiled, and peered at him.

Harry nodded. The thought of finally gaining information made him almost giddy inside. He was sick of waiting and even sicker of arguing with Ron and remaining clueless. Ron had been Harry's friend from the beginning, and right now he didn't think he'd ever been so angry with someone. Harry hoped that overhearing this meeting with the American would shed some light on why Ron was acting like such a wanker. It was a quarter to eight; they still had a little over an hour until Ron returned. More then enough time for Harry and Hermione to plan. Harry paused and then groaned.

"I have a bloody lesson with Snape tonight," Harry interjected, the realization ruining his good mood. Actually, with his appointment in less than fifteen minutes, he needed to leave soon or risk being late. "We can plan though when I get back."

"Good, good," Hermione agreed, but Harry didn't think that she had actually heard what he had said. "Make sure to bring your father's cloak with you. And the map, don't forget that."

"Did you hear what I said?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him and frowned.

"Look Hermione, I have to go now," Harry said, tossing the last jumper into the trunk.

"Why?" she asked, her frown knitting in confusion.

"Occlumency, with Snape," he replied slowly. "Did you even hear a word I just said?"

"Oh, um, sorry," she smiled sheepishly in return. Hastily she stuffed the letter into the magazine and tossed it into the trunk. She rearranged the contents a bit, shoving it closer to the bottom.

"Like I said," Harry said as he shut the lid and locked it back up. "We'll discuss this later."

Hermione nodded and got to her feet. Harry quickly followed, dusting off his knees as he went.

"Good luck with Snape tonight," she said as they walk out the door and down the stairs.

"Thanks," Harry muttered in return. He had a feeling he would need it.

-oOo-

Harry could hardly believe what this week had thrown at him. It was enough to make his head ache.

First, the D.A. had been busted and Dumbledore had been tossed out of Hogwarts.

Then he had found out about Ron's meeting with the American and been thrown out of Occlumency lessons in the same night.

In a weird way, he'd been prepared for the expulsion after what Ron had said, but for some reason he'd never _actually_ thought that it would happen. Harry didn't know what to think of the turn of events. Sure, he was grateful to never have to learn from that greasy-git again, but Ron's warning kept creeping up on him – pushing past the spiteful haze that lately clouded his mind when he was thinking about his friend. Dumbledore and Snape had hinted that Voldemort would try to invade his mind, but Ron had made the threat a little more real. And while he still had no idea what to make of Ron's claims, the events these past week two days definitely made Harry pause. He couldn't help but weigh Ron's words more carefully.

When he had trudged his way back into the Gryffindor common room that night after being tossed out, he hadn't been sure what he was feeling about Ron. Anger . . . nervousness – some weird hybrid of the two. But one thing he had known was that he was starting to get worried. Everything felt like such a mess, and he was stuck mucking through it.

Hermione had been feeling the same way as well; Harry had been able to tell immediately. Actually, she had seemed even more worried than Harry had been, biting at her nails and casting worried glances in his direction. Her words at the time had hit Harry hard.

"_You know Harry, I haven't really known what to make of Ron's visions," _she had said. _"Visions are just fussy and unpredictable. I even read somewhere that the normal human brain can't handle visions – that they can kill the host due to the stress they leave on the brain. I'm worried. I'm really worried. If this is real then Ron is in serious trouble."_

Her voice had wavered at the end, and Harry had felt his stomach drop at her words. So now, the anger that Harry had been feeling towards Ron was getting all mixed up. Harry actually preferred the rage instead of this new collage of feelings that were popping up.

And then, to top it all off, he had learned that his father was a right jerk. He didn't want to think about the way that his father and Sirius had treated Snape. Sure, Harry hated Snape, but he did not approve of bulling. It brought up too many memories of _Big D's _gang. And Harry did not want to have to lump the people into the same category as his horrible cousin.

Harry shook his head, dispelling all of the thoughts that had been trying to take root and muttered the password to the Gryffindor common room. He had business to attend to tonight and thinking about the hectic week was not going to help. His father, Snape, and Sirius would only prove to be a huge distraction.

Harry stumbled into the common room, knowing that it was later than he had intended. He'd had a huge potions essay that he'd barely started on and had gotten stuck in the library. Hermione looked up from the chair she was sitting in and glared. Of all the days for Harry to loose track of time, it had to be today. He looked around the room, a frown crossing his face. Ron was nowhere in sight. Damn it.

"What time is it anyway?" Harry asked, hoping that Hermione wouldn't comment on his lateness.

"A little after nine," she replied, her displeased look making him hunch his shoulders slightly. Harry decided to pretend that he didn't notice her frustration. "Ron left the common room about fifteen minutes ago claiming that he needed to stop at the library before it closed."

They both knew that was a lie. If Ron had already left, they needed to get a move on.

"I'll be just a minute then," Harry rushed across the common room.

He took the steps two at a time. The school robes that he currently wore were not practical to wear around Hogsmeade – especially if they were going to be sneaking around. He threw on a pair of dark trousers and a gray and black patterned jumper. Although it was April, nights were still a bit nippy. And while he wouldn't need to wear a winter jacket, dressing warm was still the best option.

There were a few things he needed to make sure to grab. He dug through his trunk in search of one of Fred and George's extendable ears. There had to be one in there, somewhere. He was sure that he had taken a few of them to school with him. They were incredibly handy. While searching, he pulled out his cloak as well as the map and tossed them onto his bed. He found an ear tangled up with a broken quill at the bottom of his trunk. Detangling it, he jammed it into his pocket and let his trunk fall shut. Grabbing his invisibility cloak and the Marauders map, he went back downstairs to join Hermione. She was also dressed practically, her jeans and purple woolly jumper both warm and dark in color.

There were still people in the common room and since it was now past curfew, getting out unnoticed was going to be problematic. They had gotten underneath the cloak with a little bit of maneuvering, but had to wait a good half an hour until they had a chance to escape. He wished that Fred and George where still there, they always could distract an entire room of students easily. But they'd left school yesterday in the true 'Weasley Twin' style, and had given Harry the chance to speak with his godfather. He was thankful for them and what they'd done for him.

It wasn't until Seamus entered with a bag full of Fred and George products that they could sneak out into the hall. Smiling at their luck, Harry and Hermione made their way through Hogwarts. They successfully passed Filch and even the dreaded Mrs. Norris. The tunnel to the Shrieking Shack was located underneath the Whomping Willow, and more time was wasted. It was a bit difficult to get past when there was an angry tree trying to swat you into the ground.

"Wait a minute Harry," Hermione stopped and stepped away from him.

Harry shrugged out of the cloak and bundled it up into his arms. He watched Hermione pull a piece of paper from her pocket and bend to get a closer look. There must have been words written on it, but he couldn't see what it said in the starlight.

After a few moments she hastily shoved it back into her trousers. She waved her wand and muttered a few words under her breathe. Making the same wand gestures over and over again, Harry watched her practice the spell for several moments.

"It's a relatively simple spell," she said conversationally, walking closer to him.

"What spell?" Harry asked.

"Oh, sorry I forgot," she replied. "I figured that since it was a possibility that Ron was meeting with the Slayer, then we might need a bit more than your invisibility cloak on this mission. If we had more time, I might have been able to find a better spell, but this should do – I hope. It's supposed to quiet our footsteps, which should make sneaking up on them loads easier."

"How does it work?" inquired Harry.

"Stand still," Hermione seemed to ignore his question. Harry watched as she twirled her wand sharply then drew an H like shape on his jumper. "Silens spatior."

A tingle was sent across his skin and converged to his feet. For a second they were warm and tingly. He tentatively lifted a foot then brought it down on a discarded stick. The expected crack never came.

"Keep in mind though, the spell only works on you feet," Hermione reminded. "It creates a cushioning barrier around the feet that absorbs the sound."

Harry smiled, "When did you have time to find this?"

"Right after we searched Ron's trunk," Hermione said, pausing to cast the spell on herself before continuing. "I went to the library to work on an essay, but well, I figured that this would be a bit more useful for tonight."

"Hermione," Harry said, feeling an unexpected sense of thankfulness for his bookish friend. "Sometimes, I just don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure you'd get by just fine," she replied, but there was a small smile on her face as she walked towards the Whomping Willow. "Now come on, we've wasted enough time tonight already."

Harry agreed with her on that.

They didn't put the invisibility cloak back on until they had entered the tunnel. Unfortunately, the cloak slowed their progress, and they stumbled and groped their way forward. Although they didn't want to alert Ron and his guest to their presence, after five minutes of stumbling around, they decided they needed some light. And then, once a lumos spell was in effect, it almost seemed silly to keep the cloak on. While Harry and Hermione might remain invisible, the light illuminating their way would not. After another ten minutes of slow progress, the cloak was once more tucked under Harry's arm. It was well past ten by the time that they got to the other end at the Shrieking Shack. The meeting had definitely started some time ago.

Donning the cloak yet again, they entered the shack.

Neither spoke as they navigated their way through the dilapidated house. Harry was grateful for the groaning building, it helped to hide their shallow breathing and awkward movements. Having not met a slayer, or even knowing much about them, he wasn't quite sure if it would be enough. Perhaps she'd know within seconds that they were being watched. Hermione had said that slayers were rumored to have enhanced senses and supernatural abilities. The extent of those abilities hadn't been clear within any of the texts they'd paged through. Surprisingly, they'd gathered the most information from the article that Luna had given him from the Quibbler.

Room after room was empty and Harry was getting the feeling that they were alone in the house.

"They're not here," Harry finally said.

"Where would they have gone?" Hermione huffed. "I know that we have the right day and time."

"They must have gone to Hogsmeade," Harry replied, trying to think. "Unless they're wandering around outside somewhere."

"I doubt that," Hermione said. "Should we wait for them to get back?"

"No," Harry adamantly replied. "By then we'll have missed the entire discussion and we'd be back to square one. I want some answers."

Hermione sighed.

"Well, Hogsmeade it is then," she said. "We best get going."

This time they kept the cloak on as they went to the village. The moon gave off just enough light that Harry only tripped a few times. There were a few people still out among the streets of the village, but most of the shops were closed. The only open businesses seemed to be various taverns, inns, and restaurants that were scattered around the town.

"The Hogs Head or the Three Broomsticks? Where do you want to start?" Hermione seemed to be reading his mind.

They went to the Hogs Head first. Creeping in after a patron, they quickly moved to a spot where they could scan the room. It only took moments for them to see that their quarry was not there. Not bothering to wait for another patron to leave, they quickly exited in search of the Three Broomsticks.

The Three Broomsticks was busy despite the lateness, and as they approached they saw that the inside was crowded with people sipping at their drinks and talking loudly. It was there that they found Ron and his guest. Harry and Hermione hadn't even had to enter the building. Ron and the brunette were sitting side by side at a table in the corner near the front of the building. They were not quite in front of the large window, but could be seen through it from a side glance.

Harry and Hermione stopped and gave each other a hesitant look. The tavern inn was crowded and there was a good chance that they would be noticed or trampled on if they went inside. But Harry did not come this far for nothing. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the extendable ear. They worked splendidly for eavesdropping on Order meetings, and should work just as well for this. Hermione raised her eyebrows and smiled, obviously glad that he had the insight to bring it.

"Come on," Harry whispered, pulling Hermione to the building front. Stopping at the point on the wall where Ron was sitting, he leaned against the bricks and pressed the ear onto the stone. The ear could hear through the walls and doors of Grimmauld Place, he only hoped that it could hear through these thick walls as well. Hermione hovered with him at the other end of the fleshy device. They both held their breath nervously, waiting to see if the ear would pick up the conversation.

Harry almost jumped for joy when he heard Ron's voice coming through the stone.

" – shite, they couldn't just leave you be for five sodding minutes," Ron said.

"Nope, that's the Fucker's That Be," replied a female American voice. Harry had no doubt that this was the same person who had taken Ron away that night. Possibly the Slayer. He smiled at Hermione who grinned back. She gave him thumbs up before turning her attention back to the conversation.

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Ron asked.

"Nothing for now," she replied. "We have enough crap to deal with at the moment. Besides, it's nothing for you to worry about."

"Nothing for me to worry about?" Ron replied, sounding uneasy.

Harry wished that they could have gotten there earlier, at the beginning of the conversation. Who knew how long they'd been talking before this? Harry really needed to learn how to keep track of time. It was a wonder he managed to get anything done.

"Yeah, it's Council business. Slayer shit, nothing to do with Voldemort."

"How can you be sure about that?" asked Ron. "You didn't have this dream the first time. It has to be connected to what we're doing now!"

"No it doesn't," she argued back. "Fuck maybe, I don't fucking know. Let me think about it some more."

"Are you going to talk to Giles?"

"No," her voice was flat and left no room for argument. Ron seemed to try anyway.

"You really should –"

"I said no," she restated, then paused. "At least not now, not until I've figured some stuff out. Yo! Can I get another one?!"

Glasses clanked onto the table and they listened to a muttered thank you.

"I didn't realize you were done," Ron said.

"I'm not, this one's for you," Harry could hear the smirk in her voice.

There was silence and Harry was curious to see what was going on. But that would mean risking being noticed and/or not be able to hear the conversation. Hermione shuffled her feet next to him and tried to press her ear closer to the listening device. She didn't seem to realize that wouldn't do a whole lot of good.

"So when's O.W.L.'s?" asked the woman.

"Five weeks," Ron muttered back. His voice was heavy, giving Harry the impression that Ron was not looking forward to it.

"You ready?"

"No."

"I'm sure that you'll do fine," she replied.

"It's not the damn tests I'm worried about," Ron shot back. "I just – I just don't know what to do," Harry listened to Ron sigh. "Harry isn't speaking with me. Hermione, well . . . Hermione. . . . she's – and then I can hardly sleep at night. I miss them and they're right there but after all these years I don't know what to do, or say. I don't understand how you can be coping so well when half the time I feel like I'm going out of my mind."

There was silence and Harry wasn't quite sure if the woman was going to answer the question. In the five years that he had known Ron, Harry had never heard such desperation in his voice. Guilt worked its way into his stomach; perhaps he'd been a little bit hard on Ron.

"First of all, I'm not sixteen," she responded. "Thank God for that. At sixteen I was a mess, and that's putting it nicely. If this shit had happened to me when I was sixteen, do you know what I'd do? I'd probably drink myself into oblivion and spend my time so fucked up that I'd be dead within a month. Or worse, I'd go join Voldie myself. So you know what Ron, I think you're doing pretty stand up job of dealing."

"Right, a stand up job," Ron muttered. "It won't be such a stand up job if I get Harry killed."

Harry felt a shiver go through his spine. He had tried not to entertain thoughts of his possible death. Or the deaths of his friends. Hermione stiffened besides him.

"We're not going to let that happen, so chill."

"And just how are we going to prevent it when Harry won't listen to a word I say? With the Department of Mysteries coming up, I might screw things up for good. I couldn't even save Dumbledore from losing his job. If I can't even do that one simple task, how am I supposed to save anyone?" His voice was quiet and harsh.

"One day at a time, one person at a time," she replied in a no nonsense tone. "So, we need to focus on the next task ahead – the Department of Mysteries."

"The Department of Mysteries," Ron repeated. "Right."

That name seemed very familiar to Harry.

Where had he heard it before?

"Nothing to worry about," she said. "I'm coming with you guys."

He heard Ron sputter out whatever he'd been drinking.

"What? You're not serious are you?"

"Of course I am," she said. "You might need me."

"First of all, I don't even know what I'm going to do about that whole thing," Ron said. "I don't know what would be worse. How am I supposed to risk Sirius's life like that? How could I even think of doing that to Harry? If anything happened to Sirius, Harry would never look at me again. The other option might be even worse though. Let's say we don't go, then what? That tosser Fudge will never acknowledge that _he's_ back. That bitch Umbridge could run the school for another year. And who knows what You-Know-Who would do to get Harry there? The next stunt he pulls might be even worse…"

Ron trailed off.

Next to Harry, Hermione practically held her breath. His own heart thumped, wildly desperate to hear more of what Ron was saying.

Sirius, Ron mentioned Sirius' life. Did that mean that Sirius was in danger? Or would be soon? Harry felt slightly nauseous. Was there some sort of connection between his godfather and the Department of Ministries?

The thought of losing Sirius was almost unbearable. The thought made him ill.

"I just," Ron began. "I just don't know what to do. Harry is going to hate me no matter what ends up happening."

"I know it's hard Ron," said the woman, and Harry heard a hint of sympathy in her voice. "But this is gonna be the first of many hard decisions. We can't save everyone."

"I know."

"But we can sure damn well try," her smoky voice replied. "You want some more?"

"Yeah," Ron answered. Harry doubted that it was butterbeer they were drinking.

There was the sound of a scrapping chair then silence. Harry could feel himself shaking, and he wasn't sure if he wanted the conversation to go on. He didn't quite understand what he was hearing, there were too many parts and not enough background information to string it all together. And it wasn't like he could just ask Ron what was going on. Ron was a dead end for information, and Harry and Hermione had to try and figure it out by themselves.

"Here ya go," there was more clanking of glass and scraping of chairs. An exaggerated sigh followed. "So, how much do you love me?"

"Loads," Ron replied and there was a smile in his voice. "As much as I love the Firewhiskey before me."

"That much huh? I'm touched," she paused for a second then added, "Actually, I think that I might let you do the touching."

"Don't you mean fucking?" Ron snickered, and Harry almost dropped his ear. Next to him, Hermione looked very uncomfortable. In fact, Harry had never seen his friend turn that shade of red. She shifted back away from the ear and cleared her throat.

"That too," the American laughed. "I got ya a little gift."

And with that, the strange exchange of dialogue was over.

"You did?"

"Umm-hmmm, I got Willow to make you a mell," she answered. "I figured you might like to have one again."

"Seriously?" Ron's voice hitched. "That's going to make things much easier. Now all I need are my trusty side arms."

"One thing at a time Freckles, one thing at a time," she laughed. "Besides, she's not done making it yet. It will be finished in about two weeks if all goes as planned."

"You know, smoking that you kind of stick out like a sore thumb," Ron commented.

"Fuck it," was her reply. "I'll bring you the mell when I see you in about five or so weeks."

"O.W.L's last for two weeks," Ron said. "Our last day is Friday."

"Meet you at the school?" she asked.

"I don't even know if we'll be going," Ron answered hesitantly.

"You will," she said. "Harry will insist on it."

"Harry might just go without me," Ron replied sullenly.

"Then I'll be there to back him up," she sounded so sure of herself.

Does that mean that Harry was going to finally meet Ron's mystery woman?

"Don't look at me like that Ron," she laughed. "I'll be fine. I might not have the ideal weapons to deal with Death Eaters, but I'll make due with what I got."

"Right," Ron sneered, "because a sword works so well against a wand."

"I'll round up something else then," she said. "If not, I'll just bring a Glock."

"I thought that the Council disapproves of killing," Ron replied in a chiding voice.

"Oh it does," she answered. "However, it's a bit fuzzier on the subject of kneecaps."

Ron snorted in laughter, and there was the sound of glass sliding.

"Fuck," Ron interjected, his thoughts clearly interrupted, "What time is it?""Almost midnight," she answered.

"Well, it's been fun," he said in a voice that was half sarcastic, half serious. "But bed is calling and I have class tomorrow."

"Just let me finish."

Seconds of silence were followed by Ron's voice, "Impressive."

There was a loud thud.

"What can say?" she replied.

Chairs skidded around and footsteps thudded on the wooden floor. Harry moved the ear away from the wall and gave a quick check to make sure they were completely covered by the cloak. He was thankful that the last of the snow had melted weeks before and that there was no need to try to and conceal any footprints.

Hermione turned with him to look towards the door.

The American exited first. She wore a dark cloak, her hair sprawling and curling slightly on top of it. Harry recognized the red light of a fag similar to the ones that Dudley smoked hanging from her lips. He wished she'd turn towards him so he could get a better look at her features, but he was not about to risk moving in order to see. She was maybe average height for a girl, and looked rather unremarkable from the back. For some reason, he expected the Slayer to look scarier.

Ron followed closely behind her. A black beanie covered his head, and tuffs of red hair shot out from underneath it. He wore khaki trousers and a black jumper that was frayed at the edges. At first glance, Harry hardly recognized him. His manners and stature were more like his brother Bill's. Confident. He looked older then his sixteen years, and Harry supposed that was why no one seemed to notice that he was underage and not at Hogwarts. He could have easily been mistaken for one of his brothers.

The pair was maybe twenty feet away, and their voices were just audible in the otherwise still night.

"Are you going to walk back with me?" Ron asked, adjusting his hat. "Cause the Floo's back in there."

"Naw," she brought the fag back up to her mouth. "I just wanted to say goodbye someplace a bit quieter."

"See you in again in a month and a half?"

"Yep. We are so going to fuck some Death Eaters up."

Ron shook his head and grinned. "I'm glad at least one of us is having fun."

"Lighten up," she dropped her cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

Ron watched the girl with a small frown. He seemed very casual around her. It was weird to see Ron acting like he'd known her for awhile. Then there was that comment from earlier - so very much unlike Ron. Harry was pretty sure that they'd only known each other for two and a half weeks or so, right? That was hardly enough time for them to become chums.

"Just, talk to Giles," Ron abruptly said.

She turned her back and Harry could see the line of tension in her shoulders and frame. She was undoubtedly glaring.

"Don't look at me like that," he smiled. "You should know by now that it doesn't scare me."

"It should."

Ron shrugged.

"Just tell me if the dream changes at all, okay?" Ron asked, this time sounding worried and serious.

She nodded and look away from him.

"Willow and I visited Ollivander's yesterday," the girl suddenly said.

"Fuck," Ron swore, "and you didn't think to mention this earlier?"

She turned slightly, and Harry could see the leer on her face.

"Willow was the one who visited actually. I just waited outside, there was no need to alert the scumbag to my presence just yet," she replied. "She has to head back to America soon, so I asked her to take a look before she left."

"And?"

"She said that she's going to have to stake the place out a few more times before she gets a good feel for the wards," she said.

"This is suicidal," Ron muttered, and rubbed at his face with a hand.

The woman let out a laugh.

Harry stood still, trying to figure out what the hell Ron and the woman were talking about. Why in Merlin's name would Ollivander cause such a reaction in Ron? All the old man did for a living was make wands. Sure, he was a bit unnerving and maybe a little creepy, but that wasn't a crime.

"It's worth the risk," she said. "Just think of the goodies hidden in his workshop."

"Yeah," he said. "And not to mention the traps. You're sure you want to go through with this without bringing in the Order? Because I really think we are going to need more help on this little mission."

She shook her head. "You and I both know that the Order would refuse to be any part of this operation right now. We won't exactly have proof of our claims. And we're not exactly going to play nice with the fucker."

"I'll see if I can get a hold of some of Fred and George's nastier products," Ron sighed. "We are going to need all the help we can get with this."

"I'll look into procuring that item we discussed earlier," she said. "You're going to need it once you're out of school."

"Can't go after Ollivander without it," Ron agreed. "We only have a short window of time though. He disappears from Diagon Alley at the end of June."

"That's long enough baby, long enough," she replied and yawned loudly.

"Not sleeping well?" Ron asked.

"Shut the fuck up," she barked, "See you later Ron." She gave Ron a slap on the back before turning back to door. "Don't worry; you'll do fine with Harry. See ya soon."

Harry watched as Ron stared at the empty doorway the American had just stepped through.

"See you soon," Ron sighed, his shoulders slouching forward.

He turned and began walking back towards the Shrieking Shack.

Harry let out a breath of air that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He and Hermione stayed put for at least ten more minutes. Neither was keen on running into Ron on their way back to Hogwarts. Before leaving, Harry took one last glance through the inn window. The American was nowhere in sight.

They didn't bother to wear the cloak on the way back. It was faster without it, and both wanted desperately to get into bed. Unfortunately, Harry didn't think that sleep would be coming anytime soon for him tonight. Not with the conversation that he had just overheard still fresh in his mind.

Harry lit his wand and watched as Hermione did the same.

"Well," Harry mused stepping into the passageway. "That was certainly strange. I don't think I've ever seen Ron that composed when talking to a girl."

Harry knew there were more important parts of the conversation that he should be focusing on, but that one little detail was just very bizarre. Since when did Ron engage in sexual innuendos with girls? Mostly, whenever Ron was confronted with a gorgeous girl (and from what little he saw of the American, he had no doubts that she was bloody beautiful) he spent half of the conversation sputtering sentences and turning red.

"Even with me he seems to run his mouth off at both ends," Hermione snorted. "And he's known me for years. You're right it was strange. It was almost like he was older or more experienced or something."

Harry smiled at the last part of her sentence, catching on what type of _more experience _that she had meant. Even in the modest light that their wands made, he could see the color in Hermione's cheeks and the frown on her face.

"Can magic do that?" Harry asked. "Can it replace the Ron that we've known with an older version of himself?"

"No, don't be ridiculous!" Hermione almost laughed. "I mean there are spells out there that can age the body but aging the soul? It's just, it's just not possible. Soul magic is incredibly dark - incredibly powerful and not to mention dangerous. I don't even think that You-Know-Who is powerful enough to cast a spell like that. The power needed would be astronomical."

Harry nodded and frowned. Hermione was right, it was a ridiculous idea.

"So what do you think is going to happen after O.W.L.s?" Hermione quietly asked.

"I have no idea," Harry replied, uneasy as Ron's words replayed in his head, "but it seems to involve the Department of Mysteries."

"Isn't that where the weapon is located? The place that the Order has been guarding?"

Harry nodded and felt even more unsettled.

"Whatever's going to happen can't be good," Harry muttered.

Hermione sighed beside him and started walking down the tunnel.

"No," she answered. "I suppose it can't be, can it?"

-oOo-

Three and a half weeks before O.W.L.'s, Ron received quite a shock. It was a few days after his career meeting, and out of no where a problem he'd been worrying about seemed to solve itself.

Ron shook his head, not exactly sure that he had heard Harry right.

"What?" Ron replied. He had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room reading his Transfiguration text. Well, not really reading the text, but more like staring at the words and letting his mind wander. He was honestly trying to study though. Just because he was twenty-six (kind of) did not mean he didn't need to refresh his memory for the upcoming tests. In fact, he felt as if he'd forgotten everything.

Harry sighed and looked to the side.

"I asked if I could have a look at that text you borrowed from Dumbledore," Harry uncomfortably cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

"Text?" Ron stammered out.

"Um, the Occlumency book," Harry replied, as if it had been obvious.

Ron wasn't quite sure what was going on here. He half believed that if he gave Harry that book his friend would rip it up and throw the pages into the fire. But that was a stupid thought, Harry wouldn't do that. . . .right?

On second thought he just might.

About a week after the D.A. fiasco, the angry looks that Harry had been directing towards him had lessened. Every once an awhile there was still anger in his eyes, but often it was replaced with a look of weariness and extreme determination. What could have happened to invoke such an abrupt change in his demeanor?

Ron was certain that Harry had already been thrown out of his lessons with Snape. Not because he remembered the date that it had happened, but rather due to the ruckus that was caused by Fred and George's swamp in Gregory the Smarmy's corridor. The swamp had appeared the day before he had met with Faith. Ron knew instantly what it had meant, that Harry had spoken to Sirius about Snape and James by using the Floo in Umbridge's office.

Ron hadn't been comfortable enough to ask about it though. In fact, Ron hadn't brought up Occlumency since the last time they had fought about it. His mind was too focused on how to fix his relationship with Harry and what he could do about the Department of Mysteries.

Perhaps Hermione had talked some sense into their friend. Ron had seen the two talking in low voices and keeping to themselves a lot recently. Actually, now that Ron thought about it a bit more, Hermione had been acting a little strange as well. What in Merlin's name was going on with the two of them?

"Uh, yeah, it's just upstairs in my trunk," Ron replied, folding the book up and placing it on the table to the right of him. "I'll just um, go up and get it."

Ron gave Harry a tentative smile as he dislodged himself from the squishy armchair and started up the stairs.

Muttering the password for his trunk, he unlocked it and pulled it open. He dug his hands down, pushing past various items of clothing in search of the book at the bottom. The book was smaller than all of his other text books, with a black cover, a title, and a small rune on the front. With the book in hand, he tried not to look too eager as he started back down. Harry had pulled another chair over to where Ron was sitting and was slouched in it. Hermione had appeared as well, and had taken the seat that Ron had just vacated. Whatever conversation they were having stopped as Ron approached and he felt as if he'd intruded on something private. He shook the notion out of his head; things were finally heading in the right direction. There was no need for him to ruin things before they'd started.

"Here," Ron muttered as he handed the book to Harry. Hermione couldn't hide the excitement in her eyes as she looked over the cover. Ron had meant to show her the book weeks ago, but with everything going on, he'd never had the chance. Harry didn't have the same look of enthusiasm in his eyes as she did though. Instead, he looked almost worried as he stared at the text in his hands.

"Have you read it yet?" Hermione asked Ron, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"Only the first few chapters on getting started," he replied. "You're not supposed to read anymore of it until you've successfully completed the first meditation routine. I haven't been able to make it past chapter three yet."

It was a lie. Ron had already read through the entire book, curious as to what it would say. If one had enough talent in Occlumency, then this book was a gold mine. But he didn't have the natural ability needed to make use of the information. He would have to study for years – no decades – for him to be at the level needed for the later chapters. But that was not information he was going to share with Harry and Hermione.

Neither Harry nor Hermione responded. Harry had already flipped the book open and was reading the first page. Eagerly, Hermione leaned over the arm rests of both chairs in attempt to read as well.

"Knock it off Hermione," Harry said, his eyes not leaving the page. "I'll give it over to you once I'm done. I can't concentrate with you breathing in my ear."

She huffed before rolling her eyes and sinking back into her chair.

"Can you hand me my book on the table?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Oh sure," she looked at the cover before handing it over. "Studying?"

"Yeah," he replied. She smiled at him largely, probably excited that he was studying on his own. "You want to go over some spells with me?"

She paused before nodding, seemingly surprised by his question.

They moved over to one of the tables and left Harry alone to read. He didn't seem to mind though; he actually seemed a bit happy to get Hermione away from him.

Ron tried to pay attention to the spell that Hermione was lecturing him about, but found his mind drifting away more than once. What Ron really needed was a nap – a nice, long nap in his warm bed.

Nights hadn't been going smoothly for Ron and it was starting to take its toll on him. When he slept in the future he'd rarely had sleeping problems. Those few dreams that he'd had he'd never remembered after waking up. All that remained of them was whatever emotion that the dream had seemed to involve. It had occasionally been hard, especially the many times he'd woken up and felt like crying, but it hadn't been impossible to deal with. Apparently, his younger body had decided to take another route.

Instead he had to actually remember whatever he had been dreaming.

There had to be something that he could do about it. He would rather not have to resort to sleeping aid spells or potions, but he was simply exhausted.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice interrupted. "Are you listening to me?"

"Huh?"

"Honestly, you were the one to ask me to study with you in the first place," she said, exasperated.

"Sorry, Moine I'm just tired," he yawned and brought his hand to his mouth.

"Tired? It's only seven o'clock at night," she gave him one of those concerned looks. It almost made Ron falter, she didn't know about the dreams did she? Ron hadn't been waking up in screams or anything as extreme as that. There shouldn't be any reason for her to be suspicious.

Ron shrugged. "Between studying and Quidditch practice it's been hard staying awake."

"I suppose the fact that the next game is only a few days away doesn't help much either," commented Hermione.

"No, not really."

Secretly, Ron was excited about that game. It had been years since he'd played the sport, and although he'd been at team practice these past weeks it wasn't the same as a real game. Of all of the games that he'd played over the years, this upcoming one was the 'One.' It was then that he had finally overcome that stupid Weasley-king curse and kicked some serious arse. He was planning on having the game go exactly the same as last time, or even better. Miss the first goal or two, and then wow the crowd with spectacular saves. He was practically giddy just thinking about it.

Hermione sighed and looked back down at the Transfiguration book.

"Well, we're not going to get anywhere with this if you can barely keep your eyes open," she finally said looking back at him.

"What?"

"Just go take a nap," she practically ordered, "or a long bath."

"What?"

"We can continue studying after that."

"Yes mum," replied Ron with a grin on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and waved him in the direction of the boys' dormitory staircase. She turned back toward Harry, and Ron reached for her arm before she moved away.

"Hermione," he spoke quietly and leaned in close to her. "Just let me know what Harry says about the book, okay?"

"Don't worry about it," she answered just as softly, "I think he's finally coming around to the idea of training with us."

She smiled at him as Ron made his way across the room.

"I think that nap sounds nice," he said heading towards the stairs. Actually, now that he thought about it, a bath did sound wonderful too. He usually wasn't a 'bath' person, preferring a fast shower in the mornings or evenings. But now that he thought about it, he was surprised that he hadn't taken previous advantage of the Prefect bathroom. It had a huge tub, and was unavailable to most of the students. At this time in the evening, he'd probably be the only one there. He could soak in the hot water until his fingers pruned up and the tension melted off of him like hot butter.

Grabbing a fresh towel and some clean night clothes, there was a spring in his step as he headed out of the dormitory.

-oOo-

It wasn't until a week later during dinner that the subject of Occlumency came up again. Ron was fondly remembering the Quidditch game from two nights before when a frustrated Hermione plopped down beside him. She violently piled food onto her plate, inadvertently flinging bits everywhere in the process.

"You alright there Hermione?" Ron finally asked once she'd halted her movements. He didn't think she'd really thought much about what she'd piled up to eat. Baked potato, chocolate cake, and spaghetti didn't seem to belong together.

"It's just that stupid book," she huffed, stuffing some cake into her mouth. "How in the world is someone supposed to be able to sit still – for ten minutes without thinking about anything? It's outrageous!"

Ron laughed.

Hermione glared at him, obviously not amused.

"It's not funny!"

"Calm down, it's only the first exercise," Ron smiled again, fondly remembering Hermione's equally frustrated attempts the first time she'd started learning.

"Which I can't even do!" she almost shrieked. "How am I ever supposed to get anywhere with Occlumency when I can't even get past the third chapter?"

She gripped her fork so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

"Hermione, you just have to give it a little bit of time," Ron said in a voice he tried to make soothing. "Eventually you will get the hang of it."

She glared at him again.

"Occlumency is all about control," Ron said through mouthfuls of garlic mashed potatoes. "We can't even begin to study the actual process of blocking our minds until we are able to control our thoughts."

It was a line that Hermione had fed to him numerous times when he'd first been trying to learn it.

"I know, I know," she said sourly. Ron watched Hermione pour herself a cup of tea and sip at it absently. She sighed and added a lump of sugar. "I wonder how Harry's doing. Do you know if Professor Snape ever had Harry doing this exercise before?"

"Yeah right," snorted Ron, his anger for Snape clouding his head. "All he ever told Harry to do was clear his mind before bed. Hardly helpful advice."

"Have you been able to do the meditation yet?" asked Hermione, not even remarking as Ron wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

"Yeah," Ron took a large slice of ham off a platter and froze as his words caught up with him.

"What!" she dropped her fork, "Seriously? You can actually sit completely still for ten minutes?"

"Nice to see that you have faith in me," he muttered back, jabbing the ham into his mouth forcefully.

She had the dignity to look sorry for what she'd said.

"Um, well. . . . It's just that you're not. . . .um very patient," Hermione almost stuttered out.

"I am when I have to be."

"Right," she said, but it was obvious that she didn't agree with him.

"Well-"

Ron's reply was cut off as Seamus sat down loudly in the chair across from him. He took one look at Ron and broke out into a chorus of _Weasley is Our King_. Dean, who had been studying while eating his dinner, took the moment to join in. A smile spread across Ron's face, and he took the moment to conduct their impromptu serenade.

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly at the boys, but grinned down at her plate nonetheless.

"I just wanted to recognize the King once again," Seamus toasted in a dramatic fashion with his glass held high.

A chorus of agreements rang out from a few other classmates eating dinner.

The grin stayed on Ron's face as he thought of the upward turn that this week had brought. Harry was speaking to him again, even if his phrases were short and he was acting strangely. However, the small exchanges of dialogue were enough for Ron at the moment. And now that Harry had sort of agreed to at least look at the Occlumency book, things were definitely looking up. The next step was to actually talk to Harry about Occlumency; Ron had been avoiding that subject. He knew that getting Harry pissed off right after they'd just started getting along was a bad idea.

Ron still hadn't decided what to say about the Department of Mysteries. That was one issue that still made his stomach turn. The advice that Faith had given him weeks ago hadn't been all that helpful, but at least she was trying. A large part of him was also worried about Faith and the Slayer dream she'd had. While she might have insisted that everything was going to be fine, Ron didn't feel the same way. He knew in his gut that it was somehow involved with their mission, it _had_ to be connected. As soon as Faith really thought about it, she would realize it as well.

She was hiding her worry very well though, if he hadn't known her so well he'd never have seen it. But he knew her as well as himself, and seeing Buffy's death had to have disturbed her. The front that she put up was strong, but the thought that she might be destined down that road had to churn her stomach. And Ron did not blame her for being worried. He felt horrible enough that he hadn't been able to save Harry, if he had been the direct cause of Harry's death – he didn't think that he'd have lived much longer. His conscience wouldn't have allowed it.

Not that she would talk to him about it.

Faith had always preferred to release stress through other methods - usually sex and alcohol. And from the snide comment she had made about Robin that night, he was sure that she was getting thoroughly shagged. He was also sure that she was using the poor guy and it was bothering her more than she'd like to admit.

Ron pushed Faith out of his thoughts as Harry took a seat next to Seamus.

Harry looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his brows were drawn down into a pinched line. The jumper he wore was stained with ink, and he hadn't bothered to wear a tie.

"I hate O.W.L.'s," he said irritably, reaching sluggishly for the pumpkin juice. "And we haven't even started the damn exams yet."

"I'm planning on having a huge celebration beginning right after the last test," Seamus replied, pitching his voice low. "I found a mate who was willing to buy us some Firewhiskey for a small delivery fee. Let me know if you guys want to pitch in for some."

"Ronald's a Prefect and could have his badge taken away if he was caught drinking!" Hermione scolded a little more forcefully then what was needed. "So don't even think about it. And you shouldn't either Harry."

"Hey," Harry sighed, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "I never said that I wanted any."

"And it better stay that way," Hermione said to Harry before glaring at Ron.

She turned away to pour herself some more tea.

Harry shared a look with Ron, rolling his eyes just slightly. Ron was sure at that moment that everything between the two of them would eventually work out. Now if he could only figure out the rest of his problems.


	10. Grabbing the Bull by the Horns

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue):**Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: **This chapter contains direct quotes from **_Harry_ _Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. **Quotes were pulled from pages 729-764.

There is a link to fan art for Mein Teil in my profile. Check it out, you won't be disapointed!

**

* * *

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Mein Teil

Chapter 9: Grabbing the Bull by the Horns

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At first, Ron wasn't sure if telling Harry about the Department of Mysteries was the right thing to do. In fact, he sort of wasn't sure if anything good could come out of dispersing the somewhat distressing information. Harry was likely to overreact, and Ron didn't know if he could soothe his friend's explosive temper. However, it didn't take long for Ron to realize that he _had_ to tell Harry. If he didn't, then he might as well write off their friendship. Harry would never forgive him.

Ron wasn't self absorbed or anything, but he knew that without him by Harry's side, the future looked pretty grim. Ron wouldn't let Harry fight this battle alone. He had always been Harry's right hand man, and was happy there. Harry's top general. Harry's confidant. Harry's best friend. And Ron would remain in that place until the day that he died.

Of course, Ron had no idea what he should say to Harry about the Department of Mysteries. Should Ron give him a detailed report on what was going to happen? Or perhaps he should just say that they were going there and that there was a chance Sirius might die? Ron had thought about what he wanted to say to Harry for weeks. His mind kept going back and forth between different scenarios. It raced through all of the ways that Harry might react with what Ron wanted to tell him and how he could minimize any damage. He analyzed what reactions would be the best and what ones to avoid and how he could possibly achieve what he wanted. Despite all his thinking, Ron still didn't know what to say. There were simply too many variables.

Unfortunately, time had slipped away and now he didn't have anymore. It was eleven o'clock in the morning on the day of their last exam, History of Magic. Time was out. The exam was at two, and Ron only had a few short hours before that crippling vision struck Harry.

Harry and Hermione sat at a table in the common room going over notes. The two spoke in low voices, with Hermione often making gestures at the papers between them. Ron wasn't going to say that he was avoiding them, but the three of them hadn't really been hanging out. It was strange, Ron had a feeling that Harry and Hermione knew that there was something that he wanted to say. They kept prodding him gently, asking if he was okay or if there was anything that he wanted to talk about. But Ron had no idea how they would have gotten wind of anything. They also seemed to be talking amongst themselves often - clearly excluding him from the conversation. He tried not to be bothered. After all, they had plenty of reasons to not want to talk to him. But it was hard not to feel a little left out, a little bit like a third unwanted wheel.

He sucked in his breath and smoothed down his gray jumper, it was now or never. He'd been watching them for a while, pretending to be studying in a chair not far from them. But as the minutes had ticked by and no new epiphanies had occurred, he'd realized that there was no more time to think about it.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat and meandering over to them in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "Can I talk to you guys for a moment?"

They both stared at him expectantly. Ron couldn't help but shift his feet under their stares.

"Um, somewhere a bit more private," Ron continued, hoping they would take the hint.

The common room was filled with studying students. Looking across the room, he could see the rest of his roommates hunkered down in groups. Their dorm would be empty and Ron knew it would be a much better place to talk. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before the two of them gathered up their stuff.

Ron led Harry and Hermione up the stairs and into the boys' room. They followed without a word. Once inside Harry made his way over to his bed and sat down, throwing his notes onto his trunk as he went. Hermione sat down beside him, tucking her own notes onto the floor by her feet. They both stared at him expectantly.

"Okay," Ron said under his breath, trying to ready himself. "Okay."

He wrung his hands together and smoothed down his jumper once again.

He could do this.

"Okay," Ron said this time running a hand through his hair. It was best for him to just take the bull by the horns. Charge on ahead - damn the consequences. Right? "Um, just let me know if I'm not making any sense.'

'So, I know that we haven't made any progress at all in Occlumency, but something's happening tonight that we need to be ready for."

Ron paused, not sure how to continue. So much for taking the bull by the horns. His stomach knotted up and Ron had a feeling that this was going to be one of the most difficult conversations that he'd ever have. This was the first 'in the future' conversation and it would define the rest of their 'in the future' interactions. And really, even with Sirius' life on the line, Ron still wanted to go to the Ministry tonight and fight Death Eaters.

Ron knew that there was a chance that things could go sour. Last time they'd made it through by the skin of their teeth. Hell, Ron thought they were lucky that more lives hadn't been lost. Going through it again, that risk was still there. But Ron had discovered during the war that he liked to take chances, to gamble. Living safe was not an option. And it was a war that they were fighting. Ron couldn't just sit still and hope that the bad guys would make a crucial mistake. He was a soldier. A leader even, and he was used to making the hard decisions that others could not.

"What's happening tonight?" Hermione prodded after Ron had remained silent for several moments.

What would Hermione think of him after this conversation? Ron was already treading a thin line with Harry and Hermione. Saying the wrong thing could topple the last of their good opinion. Ron took a deep breath.

"You-Know-Who's set a trap for Harry," Ron rushed out before he lost the nerve. The words came out in a jumbled mish-mash. "There's a battle and You-Know-Who is ousted out of the rat hole he's been hiding in."  
Harry and Hermione shared a sideways glance. Ron ignored them. He needed to get this speech over with as soon as possible. He always had hated public speaking and pep talks. Usually he'd just left it up to Faith to rally the troops before battle.

"I know what you two are thinking," Ron continued, "How can you be so sure? What kind of trap? Why in the world would we go now that you've told us?'

'But things are complicated. I hate to say it, but I think we should to go."

Harry's mouth was tight and Ron knew that there was something he wanted to say. But his friend remained silent, apparently waiting for Ron. The redhead felt the fire drain out of him at Harry's look.

"Why?" Hermione asked, bringing his attention back to her. "I mean, if what you say is true, and it's a trap for Harry, what's the point in going?"

"Because I know that if things go as how I've seen them, then we will survive," Ron said then almost hated himself for adding, "and overall we come out ahead."

"Ahead?" Harry's voice was quiet but sharp. "How can you call Sirius dying coming out ahead?"

Did Harry just say what Ron thought he did?

Next to Harry, Hermione gave him an irate glare.

How could Harry know that Sirius was in danger?

How had they found out?

"I never said that Sirius was in danger," Ron fumbled slightly, feeling his ears warm.

"But you're not denying it," replied Harry.

Ron looked back and forth between his friends. Harry looked determined. His face was focused and intense. There was also a little bit of anger that floated around in his eyes. Hermione looked as she always did when she was trying to solve a puzzle. She was obviously planning her next attack.

"Look Ron," Hermione said slowly and in a soothing voice, "we_ might_ have followed you the other night."

Harry glared at her.

"What?" she answered his look, "It's no use in hiding that we know more then we should."

"What do you mean you followed me?" Ron asked uneasily, knowing full well what their answer would be. There was only one place that they could followed him and gotten information from these past few weeks, and that was the meeting he'd had with Faith. He felt his face flush in anger and didn't try to hide it. Ron had always been known for his short temper. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "Followed me where?"

"I'm sorry Ron, but we just couldn't sit around and do nothing," Hermione answered. "So we followed you when you met the American in Hogsmeade."

"What?" Ron almost yelled, feeling some of his anger turn outward. How the hell had the two of them followed him? How the hell had Ron not noticed that he was being shadowed?

"Well, what did you expect us to do?" Harry asked. "You've told us next to nothing about what's going on, we needed some answers."

"I can't believe it," replied Ron mostly to himself. His mind frantically tried to retrace the conversation that night with Faith. What information had he unknowingly given away? He didn't think they talked about anything too important. Maybe Ollivander and um. . . . Faith's slayer dream. . . . Oh, and he couldn't forget about the chunk of it he spent rambling on about his insecurities! Just fucking great! He resisted the urge to hang his head in his hands.

"Yes, well," Hermione at least looked a little sorry for her actions. Harry though looked perfectly content with what he'd done. "If it makes you feel better we did already discuss among ourselves whether we should go to the Department of Mysteries. We've just been waiting for you to come around to telling us."

"Why the hell would that make me feel any better? And what if I decided not to say anything? Huh? What then would you have done?" Ron replied angrily.

Harry had a scowl on his face and avoided Ron's gaze. He turned to Hermione for an answer.

"We just knew that you would say something!" she answered in an exasperated voice. "There just was no way that you would make that decision without us."

"I can't fucking believe this," he hissed out. Faith would probably laugh her arse off when she heard about it.

Hermione scowled at his choice of language. Ron turned his glare to Harry. Harry was looking back at him expectantly - like Ron should be _sorry _for having a meeting with Faith. _Well, he wasn't! _And Ron could bet that he was not the only one who'd had secret meetings. All of those whispered conversations between Harry and Hermione these past weeks clicked into place. The entire time they'd been discussing what they had overheard.

Ron wouldn't delude himself, he knew that Hermione was smart and Harry wasn't lacking in intelligence either. If the two of them really thought about what Faith and Ron had discussed, they could easily figure out most of his secrets. While he trusted his friends wouldn't intentionally say anything to anyone that would land him in Azkaban, he really couldn't take any chances.

Ron was silent, waiting for someone else to speak first. He didn't know what to say and quite frankly was too pissed off to start the conversation back up.

Hermione was the one who hesitantly spoke first.

"Don't you at least want to hear what we talked about?" she tentatively asked.

Ron crossed his arms, and inclined his head.

"But first," Harry interjected, standing up quickly. "We want to know about Sirius. You'd talked about him in danger. What kind of danger?"

"If I don't interfere," Ron said rather rudely. "He'll die."

The color drained from Harry's face.

"But that doesn't have to happen," Ron quickly added, knowing that he would have to phrase everything just right. He was still mad, but there were more important matters for him to focus on. He needed to stop acting like a teenager and show at least a little bit of control or he might as well just kiss Harry and Hermione goodbye right now. "I know what happens and we can save him."

"How?" Harry questioned. "How does he die?"

"Harry please," Hermione interjected, clearly becoming distraught at the intensity in Harry's voice. "Are you sure you really want to know."

"What kind of stupid question is that?" He replied, turning towards her. "Of course I want to know!"

"He falls through an archway while fighting in the Department of Ministries and disappears," Ron said quietly. "It's a gateway to the dead. There's isn't anything we can do to get him back"

"So he just falls through a doorway and dies?!" Harry asked, clearly confused.

Ron nodded in reply. The anger from minutes ago finally dissipated at the hurt and anger he heard in Harry's voice. It was almost easy for Ron to forget how much Harry had cared for his Godfather.

"So, if we just keep him away from the archway he'll be fine?" Hermione asked, her gaze jumping from one boy to the other.

"That's the idea," Ron said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I honestly don't know. I only saw the one outcome."

"Do you truly think that we can save him?" Hermione asked, worry and fear in her voice.

Ron nodded and felt as though he were signing his own death warrant. He was committed to saving Harry's godfather. Of course, he'd never really wanted Sirius to die in the first place, but to actually say that he could stop a death that had already occurred once? Especially since now he was a bit focused on more important matters – or people?

"What if we don't go?" Hermione adjusted the quilt on Harry's bed. "Then what?"

"You-Know-Who goes through a lot of trouble to get Harry to the Department of Mysteries. If Harry doesn't show up, he'll probably try even harder next time. I don't know what lengths he'll go to."

Ron stayed quiet as Harry paced and Hermione got that thinking look back on her face. He hadn't planned on the conversation going the way it was, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. Ron needed to make sure that they understood that they needed to go the Department of Mysteries.

"So you're asking me to risk Sirius' life? If we go, there is a chance Sirius will die," Harry crossed his arms.

"I can't lie to you about this," Ron said, pulling at his jumper. "If everything goes to shite, and Sirius doesn't make it out – it's still worth going."

"How can you even say that?" Harry practically yelled.

"Because I have to!" Ron answered back, hating the look of betrayal on Harry's face. "A lot of people are going to die in this war! We can't shy away from every risk because someone we love might not make it!"

"If it was one of your family member's in his place you wouldn't be saying that!" shouted Harry.

"Yes I would," he replied, and the truthful words tasted bitter. "I would risk everything to stop the Dark Lord! He can't win. I will not sit by and watch the world turn into hell because of that creature! Not again! Never again!"

"You're telling me that you would willingly let your mum die if it meant the death of Voldemort?" Harry asked.

The room was silent as Harry and Hermione looked at him for an answer. Ron could feel himself hardening as the conversation went on. He knew the answer to that question, and he knew that it would horrify his friends to hear it.

"I . . . I. . . ." Ron stammered. "You really don't want to hear the answer to that question."

"Ron," Hermione's voice was quiet. "You wouldn't, would you?"

"Let's see!" Ron practically shouted. "One life versus millions – no billions of them! What the fuck do you think I'd do?!"

Hermione made a horrified noise and Ron looked away. Was it wrong of Ron to make those sorts of decisions? Did the needs of the few matter as much as the needs of the many? No, war was hard and the decisions were never easy. Ron knew that a lot of people that he loved were going to die. A lot of people that Harry loved were going to die. If Ron could save everyone he would, but it was simply impossible. Harry was the most important person for him to protect, he would do anything to keep Harry alive.

"I'm not saying that we are going," Harry began, "But if we do, we need a plan of attack. How does Voldemort get me to the Department of Mysteries in the first place?"

"A vision," replied Ron. "I don't know what it contains though, only that's why we go."

"The American would come with us, right?" asked Hermione. Ron jerked in surprise. He should have expected the question though, considering what they'd overheard. Ron gave her a glance, she sounded almost uncomfortable at the idea of meeting Faith.

"Yeah, she'd meet us here," responded Ron, not sure what to make of the question.

"Why here?" Hermione questioned. "Why not at the Ministry of Magic?"

Ron shrugged.

"She's probably worried that she won't be able to find the place on her own," he commented, trying to make Hermione smile. She didn't though.

"Who is she?" asked Harry, clearly curious.

"I'm sure she'll tell you when she gets here," Ron replied.

-oOo-

Faith made sure that she was inside Hogwarts with time to spare. Once again, she'd worn what she'd begun to call her 'wizarding threads.' The long black cloak she'd purchased when she'd first visited Diagon Alley hung clasped shut. This time she ditched the school uniform though, if she was going to be fighting Death Eaters, she sure as hell was going to wear what she wanted. Instead, she wore black leather pants and a tight black sweater she'd packed. Both were slightly worn, yet still sturdy and comfortable. It was definitely an outfit that screamed 'I don't belong,' but that was why she'd worn the cloak. The icing on the cake was the wand she had tucked away in her cloak. She'd bought it from Zonko's weeks ago, knowing that it would come in handy.

The wand was perfect.

It was realistic looking enough to fool any wizard who got a quick glance, and easy enough to replace if lost. The wand itself was a child's toy charmed to give off pink bubbles when flicked in casting motions. She'd played with it for awhile, and was sure that some of the Scooby Gang would have gotten a kick out of it. So as long as she didn't try to cast any spells, no one would have any clue that she carried only a toy.

And since she only needed it for looks, it suited her just fine.

But her 'wizarding threads' weren't the only disguise she'd thrown on for the night. She was going into the lion's den and had prepared accordingly. If the Ministry of Magic discovered her identity – she would be royally fucked. The fall out would be disastrous and Faith would be in more trouble than she'd ever been in before. She had to keep her involvement a secret and there were only two ways for her to remain unknown.

One, she could purchase and wear a ski mask, preferably black.

Unfortunately, that option was impractical and would make her stick out like a sore thumb.

Two, she could use some sort of glamour to mask her identity.

Faith hadn't even had to consider which option she wanted, a glamour was the only way to go. Of course, Faith also knew that her not being a wizard could make it a bit difficult. She'd had to recruit some magical help, needing a glamour that she could put on and remove herself.

She wished that they had the technology they'd had in the future. There the Order had developed a way to tie glamours to necklaces. Faith had owned two, one that she'd used when she'd gone on missions, and another that had been used when she'd been in public. The Order hadn't wanted the Death Eaters to know who was still alive in their ranks.

Faith had loved her mission disguise and had known instantly that she wanted to use it again. Convincing Willow though, had not been the easiest.

Faith had bribed, promised, and had used every inch of persuasion she had to get Willow to agree.

She fondled with the long braid of dark hair imaging Freckle's smile when he saw her in this form. He always had seemed to like the disguise a bit too much.

Faith sighed and adjusted herself on the bench she was waiting on. Glancing again at the watch on her wrist she looked around. Sitting outside the Great Hall, she waited with other students for the last O.W.L. to be over. There were enough people that she could blend in easily, there wasn't much time left and a few students had gathered to congratulate their friends and celebrate. Faith looked older then the students though, which she really had no problem with. If anything, she looked like one of the examiners- a very hot examiner.

She stared at the page of the book she was reading to pass time. Of course, the book too was a prop; she didn't really give a shit what it said. She had just picked it up at the bookstore earlier for something to make her look busy. Even though it was a romance novel, one that _Witch Weekly _called a must read, she had only gotten to page ten in the half hour she'd sat here.

Faith nearly flung the book off of her lap as the Great Hall doors groaned open. An elderly wizard led a very familiar teenager out into the entrance hall. Faith couldn't help the grin on her face that appeared as he came into view. Harry was obviously upset but Faith was still happy to see him alive.

Even with how far away Faith was, she could see that his face was pale and clammy.

" – the examination is nearly over," the old man was saying. "But you may be able to round off your last answers nicely?"

"Yes," Harry responded frantically. "I mean . . . no . . . I've done – done as much as I can, I think. . . ."

Faith tried not to look too interested in what they were saying. No need for someone to realize that she didn't belong quite yet. She turned back to her book and stared at the sentences.

She missed whatever was said next between them, but the examiner went back into the Great Hall and Harry took off up the staircase in front of him. Faith contemplated following him, but thought better of it. She'd wait for Ron instead, especially since Harry would have no idea who she was.

There was no need to complicate matters any more then they already would be.

Ten minutes later the Great Hall doors opened again, and this time a horde of students came out. It wasn't hard to spot Ron and Hermione in the crowd. They were anxiously looking around for Harry. Hermione said something and grabbed Ron's arm pulling him up the staircase Harry had just ran up.

Faith followed.

There was too much noise, not to mention too many students to call out Ron's name. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to glance around before taking off.

As Ron and Hermione got to the top of the stairwell, Harry appeared again. Together the three of them continued down the hall. Faith caught a glimpse of them before they disappeared into a classroom. She glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. After seeing that they were too involved in matters of their own, she followed.

" – he's using Sirius to get me there," Harry's voice came through the door. "Just like Ron said, they're at the Department of Mysteries! We have to go!"

"But Harry," Hermione's voice shook, "Ron also said that if we go, Sirius will die."

"Well, he's dying right now anyway!" Harry shouted.

"How could they even get into the Ministry of Magic?" Hermione replied. "It's only four o'clock. Ron said that You-Know-Who wants you there! He knows that you saw this! He wants us to come after him!"

"I know that!" Harry responded. "And Ron also said that he thinks we should go! Ron said that he could save Sirius!"

Ron had remained quiet as the two of them discussed loudly, and Faith didn't blame him. Obviously he had told them some of what was going to happen tonight. How much, Faith had no idea but at least Harry had some idea that it was a trap. She wondered if Ron had mentioned that she was coming along for the ride.

Oh well, now was as good as time as any to find out.

"Knock, knock," she called, opening the door.

Faith had cut off whatever Hermione was about to say as she shut the door behind her and entered the room.

Harry was sitting on top of a desk, visibly trying to control his stress. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and his mouth fell open comically. Hermione turned at her words, a look of confusion crossing her face. The two of them were clearly perplexed. Ron took one look at Faith and lightly shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.

"If you don't mind," Harry clipped out as he angrily stood up from the desk. "We're sort of having a private conversation here."

"The way you're yelling Harry," Faith smirked, "It's hardly private."

"Wait a minute," said Hermione, "I recognize your voice! You're the American!"

Harry openly stared at her.

"Are you sure Hermione?" he asked. "She looks familiar but definitely not the same."

"It's her," Ron finally spoke up.

"Lara Croft, at your service," Faith introduced and Ron snorted in laughter.

"I can't believe that you're going disguised as her," Ron chuckled, some of the tension in his shoulders draining away. "How did you ever convince Willow to make that for you?"

"I can't tell you all of my secrets." Faith responded with a flick of her braid.

"Hermione," Harry still looked confused. "Why does she look familiar?"

"Because she's Angelina Jolie," Hermione replied dryly, though Harry still looked confused. "Oh come on Harry, she one of the sexiest American Muggle actresses of the decade."

"Right," Harry tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "I think Dudley has a poster of her on his wall."

"Why are you glamoured as Angelina?" Hermione asked.

"Can't have the Ministry know that I'm there," Faith shrugged.

"But, won't they go after Angelina?" Hermione pushed in a teacher like tone, obviously believing that she'd pointed out a major flaw.

"Naw," Faith responded. "As soon as they realize who she is, it'll be apparent that she was never in the Department of Mysteries. It can't be a more obvious cover."

"I guess," Hermione replied, but she didn't really seem all that sure. She shifted on her feet and her eyes flickered between her and Ron. Her face turned a bit red and Faith had the feeling that she was missing something.

"So, Lara – is it?" Harry asked. Faith nodded, turning her attention towards him. "You're here to help us get Sirius back?"

"That's the gist of it," she answered, leaning against the stone wall. "Not to mention kicking some Death Eater ass."

"But Harry, we haven't even established if Sirius has actually been kidnapped yet," Hermione reiterated, apparently coming out of whatever funk she was in. "We could be walking into a trap for no reason what so ever!"

"The weapon is the reason," Harry stated, his eyes lighting up. "He has Sirius because he thinks that it will help him get the weapon!"

Hermione pressed her lips together as if she was trying to control what she said. Turning away from Harry, she focused in on Ron.

"Is Sirius actually there?" she asked him.

Faith could see Ron freeze under her glare. Of course Ron knew that Sirius was safe at home in number 12, but Ron couldn't tell Hermione that. Faith knew that Ron couldn't say anything, couldn't risk them not going.

"I don't know," he finally responded. "But if we do go, he will be there."

"And you?" she demanded, turning to Faith. "Do you know if Sirius is actually there?"

"Look kid, I have no fucking clue," she shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not?"

"Well, what good are your visions if we can't figure a way out of these sorts of situations?" she said exasperated.

"It's not about figuring out a way to avoid the situation," Faith interjected and saw Ron give her a grateful glance. "There are some things that are meant to happen in life. Voldie is determined to get Harry to the Department of Mysteries. If you go now, you'll have some clue as to what you are going to face. Or if you want, you can wait until he forces your hand, and then – you'll have no fucking idea what you're walking into."

Faith could see that at least Harry was considering her words. Hermione though, still looked frazzled.

"But we don't know what we're walking into?" Hermione shrieked. "Ron hasn't told us what's going to happen except for the outcome! What did he see exactly?"

"That's because I'm unconscious," Ron said in a small voice, his friends turning towards him at the words.

"What?!" Hermione spoke, now totally confused.

"I get hit by a bad curse and attacked by a freaky brain, so I don't quite know what happens," he said.

"Great," Harry said. "So you lied to us!"

"I didn't lie!" Ron shouted back. "I told you what I could, but I'm limited to the knowledge that I see! I only know that Sirius dies because Moony tells me how it happens!"

The door opened with a quick jerk, and everyone jumped at the squeaky noise. With all of the yelling, Faith hadn't heard anybody approaching. Shit, she really hated it when someone got the chance to sneak up on her. Faith whipped around to see who had decided to crash the party. It was the red head – Ron's sister that Faith had 'attacked' earlier. Following her was a girl who wore Ravenclaw robes and looked familiar, but Faith couldn't quite place her.

"I thought I heard your voices in here," Ginny said, looking around the room and settling her eyes on Faith. "Who are you?"

"Never you mind," Harry said tightly. "This is a private discussion, leave."

"I think that lines gonna work just as well for her as it did for me," Faith said.

"We are not bringing them into this. They're not coming with us," Harry firmly stated. He crossed his arms and glared at Faith, looking more like a two year old than a fifteen year old. It was good to know that Harry had accepted that she was going along for the ride. His words also betrayed the truth, they _were_ going to go. Despite all of Harry and Hermione's questions and frustrations, Harry knew on some level that they had to go. It made it a helluva lot easier on her.

"Why not?" Faith commented. "Did you ever even bother to ask Ron who comes with?"

Harry paused and blinked. There was a shocked look on his face as he turned to Ron.

"They come with?" he asked quietly, the tone of his voice demanding an answer.

Ron glared at Faith. He frowned and turned to Harry.

"And Neville," Ron slowly replied.

"And you didn't think this was important to tell us before?" Harry seemed frustrated.

"Give me a fucking break!" Ron practically hollered back. "It's been a really shitty month and I have no idea what I'm doing! I've been trying so hard not to muck things up for good, that I might have forgotten a few details! So yeah, they come with – they survive!"

"What are you guys yelling about?" Ginny questioned, giving the girl next to her a look.

"Us apparently," the blond commented, "and Neville."

"That's assuming that we're going," Hermione interjected. "Because we still haven't decided on that yet."

"I can't just leave Sirius there to be tortured," Harry replied.

"Please Harry," Hermione pleaded, walking over him and resting her hand on his shoulder. "Please just check to see where Sirius is before we rush off there!"

"We can't waste the time!" cried Harry. "Look, Ron said that originally we go. So we must have originally checked and found that he was there."

"Did we check?" Hermione's voice was serious as she turned to Ron. She was almost shaking with worry and her eyes were wide. Faith watched as Ron pressed his lips together.

"Yes," Ron replied softly. "Kreatcher answered the Floo and said that his master wasn't home."

"Then it's settled," Harry said looking over to Hermione. She studied his face before sighing loudly and nodded in agreement. With the nod, Harry looked relieved to have his friend behind the decision. "Let's go."

"Wait a minute!" Ginny screeched. Faith had almost forgotten that the two girls were still there. "What the hell is going on? And no one has told me yet who the hell she is!"

"And shouldn't we get Neville first?" the blond added. "He is coming with us, right?"

Harry rubbed his forehead and ran his hand through his hair.

"I can't let them come with," Harry said, turning to Ron. "Not if this is a trap."

"Where are you guys going?!" Ginny asked, clearly frustrated at her lack of knowledge. "If you're in trouble, we want to help!"

Ron glanced at Ginny, then the blond. His face was tight and he looked a little pale. Faith knew that Ron agreed wholeheartedly with Harry. He clearly didn't want his sister anywhere near the Department of Mysteries either. Finally, he turned his attention to Faith. She smiled lightly, trying to reassure Ron that his sister would be fine. Besides, if Ron told her that she couldn't come, Ginny would never forgive him.

"Just . . . just let them come," Ron answered in a slightly stilted voice.

Harry remained silent a moment before turning his attention to two girls, "Just promise me that you'll stay close?"

"Yeah, of course," Ginny replied instantly. The blond simply nodded a yes.

Harry was the first to leave with Hermione following at his heels. Ginny scurried after them. The blonde fell in step with Ron and Faith.

"Where to?" Faith heard Hermione ask Ron. The bushy haired girl had paused at a fork in the hallway.

"First Gryffindor tower," replied Ron. "I nabbed a few of Fred and George's products that might help out."

"It seems that we are going to be working together. My name's Luna Lovegood by the way," she said, a dreamy look on her face. "And my friend there is Ginny Weasley."

Ginny looked back at the sound of her name and scowled at Faith. It was apparent that she was still not happy that no one would answer her questions about the new girl.

"Name's Lara Croft," Faith responded.

"Shouldn't we be getting Neville?" Luna asked. "He's supposed to come with us, right?"

"We can't waste the time searching for him," Harry answered. "If he's in the common room, then he can come with. But we simply don't have time to search all of Hogwarts for him."

Once Harry was certain of where he was headed, he took off quickly. It had to look strange with everyone following, struggling to keep up with Harry's fast pace. The three Gryffindors ran into their dormitory with barely a look back. Faith didn't follow, but instead waited outside the portrait. Luna stood next to her, quietly staring off.

Faith gave Luna a sideways glance. The girl was dressed strangely, by wizard and Muggle standards. Not that Faith had that much authority when it came to fashion. Hell, she got enough shit from people over her own wardrobe.

"I like your earrings," Faith said, not wanting to stand in awkward silence. They looked and smelled like some kind of weird discolored vegetable.

"Thank you," Luna responded with a smile. "I made them myself."

Faith looked down the corridor, and then glanced back to the portrait. She had always been terrible at small talk. She tried to remember if she had ever met Luna in the future. It was possible. She thought that she remembered an eccentric blond Order member who had died shortly after Faith had started hanging around Harry. Those first few months had been filled with dozens of faces and names.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron came back out of the portrait.

"No Neville," Luna sadly stated.

"No, he wasn't there," answered Hermione.

"Here," Ron said, tossing Faith a small bag of what looked like paint balls.

"What are these?" she asked, peering down into the bag.

"Smoke bombs," he answered. "They might be of some help."

She nodded and tied the ends of the bag around her belt. They wouldn't exactly fit into her pocket. She noticed that he handed some to Luna as well. The others must have gotten them while they were in the common room.

"What's that one do?" Faith asked, pointing to the white cylinder things that he was passing to Harry.

"Fireworks," he smiled, and it was tinged with a cheeky youthfulness that transformed his face. "Just pull the string and they launch. I recommend aiming them at Death Eater's faces. Or any other tender parts."

He tossed her one and she examined it.

Faith frowned, tucking it away in a pocket. It really looked like a tampon and the idea sort of unnerved her.

"How are we supposed to get to the Ministry of Magic anyway?" Hermione asked. "It's all the way in London."

"Well, I just Flooed from the Leaky Cauldron to The Three Broomsticks," Faith replied with a shrug of her shoulder. "It wouldn't take that long for us to go that way."

"Won't Madam Rosemarta be suspicious of a bunch of Hogwarts students wanting to use the Floo?" Ginny asked, still clearly trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

"Don't worry," responded Faith, "I'll distract her."

Ginny raised a skeptical eyebrow, and gave Faith a look. She ignored the red head's glare as Harry led the way again through Hogwarts. They rushed past students and teachers, trying to remain inconspicuous as they headed toward the main entrance. Ginny looked back and gave her a few more angry glances before turning her head back and purposefully ignoring her. Faith wondered if the girl realized that she had been the one who had attacked her. If Ginny didn't know yet, she would probably know soon. The girl wasn't stupid and would figure it out by herself.

"I agree with Ginny," Hermione said abruptly. "Flooings not going to work. We're going to have to find another way to get there."

It was surprisingly easy to slip through the front entrance and start across the courtyard. Most of the students were inside either eating an early dinner or getting ready for end of the school year celebrations. They were nearing the boarder of the school grounds when a sickly sweet voice filled the air.

"Hem, hem," the group skidded to a halt and turned around slowly. Faith barreled into Ron, not expecting the sudden movement. Cursing under her breath, she quickly backed up. It wasn't her most graceful moment as a slayer.

Faith turned toward a toad-like woman wearing an unholy amount of pink. God, it was like one of those teeny-boppers had grown up and advanced from t-shirts to tweed. Just looking at the woman made her nauseous. The cookie cutter smile on the woman's face didn't help. She wasn't alone either. Behind her stood four students, each with a wand pointed at the group.

Her gaze shifted from the woman in pink to the students holding wands. Her eyes wandered over the four, recognizing a few of them. The blond on the far left of the line looked vaguely familiar, as well as the tall brown haired boy who stood next to him. The girl Faith recognized right away. It was Pansy Parkinson – a grade A rich bitch. She had never been a hard core Death Eater, but was close enough. The last boy was large, ugly, and someone she didn't recognize at all. The students watched them with barely disguised eagerness.

"I do not believe that you have permission to leave the premises," the woman in pink smiled wider and her voice made Faith want to retch. "Now where could you be going?"

"No where," Harry responded with veiled impatience. "We just wanted a little bit of fresh air, excited that O.W.L.'s are over and all."

"I think not," she tsked softly. "Oh no, I highly doubt that this is a little run for exercise."

No one answered her, and Faith could see the tension shimmering in the air. Whoever the woman was, no one was happy to see her.

"Warrington, fetch me Snape," she ordered.

The student next to the blond kid ran back into Hogwarts. Faith knew that she recognized him from somewhere. Definitely a future Death Eater, one that she remembered fighting.

"Draco, take their wands," Pinky said.

Faith wasn't sure if Ron was going to let go of his wand or not. Even without it, Ron was dangerous. In his prime he could have easily taken these people out with brute force alone. One overweight stubby teacher and some teenagers wouldn't stand a chance against Faith and Ron – with or without wands. Faith looked at Ron from the corner of her eye, waiting to see what he would do. If he decided to attack now, she'd be ready.

Draco smirked and came towards them. His name didn't ring any bells for Faith. Besides of course, that it was utterly ridiculous. How the hell did wizards come up with such stupid names? As he came closer, the spark of recognition she had felt grew. The shape of his face, nose, and color of his eyes were so like a Death Eater that she clearly remembered. It came to her in a rush and her mouth twisted. He looked like Lucius fucking Malfoy. As far as Faith knew, little old Lucy didn't have a son. Then again, she supposed he could have died before she'd entered the war.

Ron remained still as the wand was taken from his hand. He seemed to barely register Draco's presence. Instead he kept his eyes on Umbridge, and Faith caught his gaze glancing between herself and his best friend. Faith relaxed a fraction, willing to let Ron set the pace. He was obviously waiting to make his move.

After Ron, Draco continued to pluck the wands out of everyone else's hands. He gave a start when he got to Faith, and his eyes narrowed. It was obvious that he didn't recognize her. She returned his confused look with smile containing enough sexual innuendo to make a grown man stop. With her glamour, she was sure that the effect had to be staggering. After a strange glance and a sneer, he slowly took the wand out of her hand. He seemed to take great care to _accidentally_ brush his hand against hers in the process.

Draco returned to his place in line behind Pinky.

"Now that's much better," Pinky continued, oblivious to the fact that Faith clearly didn't belong. It looked like Draco wasn't going to tell her either. Interesting. "So, where were you rushing off to then? Perhaps to meet someone? Someone like Dumbledore?"

The bitch's words were mainly directed at Harry and as she continued to fume, Faith took the opportunity to talk with Ron quietly.

"Who's the bitch," she muttered.

"Umbridge," he replied in a soft voice. He didn't look at her, but Faith could see that Ron was not happy.

Faith searched her memory for the name and didn't come up with a whole lot. All the she could remember was Ron and Harry ranting occasionally about how she had been possibly the worst teacher ever. Harry had even preferred Professor Quirrell to her, and Faith was pretty sure the guy had had Voldemort stuck to the back of his head.

"She gonna be a problem?"

"Not really," Ron whispered. "It just depends on how big of a scene we want to make. If anything, we should wait until Snape shows up before we make our move. He'll let the others know where we went."

Ron hadn't needed to tell her who the 'others' were. If he wanted the Order to show up and help them out tonight, then someone would have to let the old guys know where Harry had gone. Faith knew that she was good, and she knew that Ron was good, but she really didn't want it to be just them and four teenagers dealing with all the shit that was supposed to happen tonight. Faith wasn't sure if she should be relieved that Umbridge had stopped them or not. Harry, though, was obviously not happy about the situation.

Snape must have been nearby, because he made his way towards them rather quickly. The student trailed after him, clearly trying to remain beneath the man's notice. Faith almost smiled at the appearance of the greasy haired guy. He was a familiar enemy . . .um . . . ally . . . . whatever. Faith at least knew how to deal with him. She spared a glance at Ron and wondered how he was dealing with Snape.

Faith didn't necessarily like Snape, but she was able to behave civilly around the man and that was more than she could say for Ron. The redhead absolutely hated him. Of course, Faith couldn't really blame him. When Ron had found Hermione dead after she'd been supposedly meeting with the spy, he had lost it. For days the kid had been ballistic. Faith knew that she would have reacted the same way if she'd found her lover dead in Snape's arms.

Snape glanced around at the group, only pausing briefly at her. If he was surprised by her unknown face, he didn't show it.

"You called?" he drawled and the voice sent another wave of memory through her. The man was always snarky, harsh, and ready to play anything to his advantage.

"Yes. I have reason to believe that Potter is going to meet Dumbledore," she replied. "I need more Veritaserum, as quick as you can."

"But there is no more," he replied with a bored tone. His sallow face shone eerily even in the sunlight. "I gave you the last bottle to question Potter months ago. I had told you that only a few drops would be sufficient."

"Yes, well that's all gone. So, you'll have to make me more, if you please."

He didn't show any reaction to what she had said but Faith knew better. She wouldn't be surprised if he was inwardly gritting his teeth at the woman. He never seemed to have the time or patience for stupid people.

"It will take at least a full moon cycle for the potion to brew," he sneered. "But if you still wish to question Potter in a month, then I will have some ready for you."

"But I need it now!"

"My most sincere apologizes," he said, then turned away. "But there isn't much I can do."

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry suddenly shouted drawing everyone's attention. "At the place – where it's hidden!"

Faith looked over to Harry in surprise. . . .who was Padfoot? Out of the corner of her eye, Ron looked as though he was the only person not surprised by Harry's outburst. Harry was undoubtedly letting Snape know where they were going. His words were also probably why Ron had waited before attacking.

"What's he talking about Snape?" Umbridge questioned.

"No idea," Snape sneered. "Perhaps the stresses of school have finally warped his simple brain."

With those final words, Snape stalked back into Hogwarts without a glance behind him. Faith could feel Harry seething in anger. She glanced down and saw his fists clench.

"Very well . . . very well . . . I am left with no alternative," Umbridge brought her wand up and focused it on Harry. She took a few steps closer. Her goons eagerly followed. From behind the bitch, Faith could see another student approaching. Looking back over his shoulder nervously at where Snape had clearly passed, the student hurried away from the school. Adjusting his cloak, he eyed the situation in confusion. Ron must have seen him too, because he eyed the kid meaningfully. "This is more than a matter of school discipline. . . . This is an issue of Ministry security. . . . Yes . . . yes."

Faith had the feeling that whatever Umbridge was about to do, she wouldn't like it. Ron shifted uncomfortably to his right and confirmed her suspicions.

"I bet the Cruciatus Curse will loosen your tongue," Umbridge said with a small smile.

Faith focused on the woman. Faith was pretty sure that the Cruciatus Curse was very illegal in wizarding society. It was kind of like punishing a tardy student with the electric chair or something.

"No you can't!" Hermione yelled, obviously horrified by the idea. "You're a ministry official and that curse is illegal!"

"Well, what Minister Fudge doesn't know won't hurt him."

Harry glanced worriedly around at the other students. Faith watched as he shared a glance with Hermione. She knew that Harry felt responsible for the other students; that he was trying to figure out a way to get them out of this situation. Umbridge was softly muttering under her breath like a crazy person. Faith didn't think she'd ever look at pink the same way.

"Harry! If you won't tell, I will!" Hermione yelled, and Harry jerked in bewilderment.

Faith had no idea what Hermione was yelling about. But if she had to be honest, she felt completely out of her element. Harry looked just as confused as she, even though she bet that he knew more. At least, Faith hoped that he did. It wouldn't do them any good if _everyone _was in the dark.

Faith turned her attention away from them, hoping that Hermione could keep Umbridge busy until she had the chance to make her move. She turned to Ron, wanting to gain his attention, but he was focused on the kid who was still standing stupidly watching the situation unfold. No wonder Ron hadn't done anything yet, he was still trying to get the student out of firing range. Ron made a subtle motion to the right, and the student stared at him in puzzlement. Faith resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the fact that the kid couldn't seem to take a hint. After another moment he finally seemed to understand and inched out of the way.

As soon as Faith was sure that she wouldn't hit the boy she attacked. She grabbed the firecracker that she had shoved into her pocket and launched it. It shrieked out of her hand. Umbridge dove for cover as her lackeys pushed at each other in an effort to get out of the way.

It seemed that Ron had the same idea as Faith. While Faith's firecracker had managed to scatter the group, Ron's had hit one of Umbridge's flailing, pudgy legs. She shrieked as she rolled around on the ground trying to subdue the flames that were inching up her nylons. Apparently she had forgotten that she was a witch and had a wand and was instead trying to put the smoldering ashes out the Muggle way.

The new boy off to the side raised his wand and fired a stunner at the blond.

Draco slumped to the floor and the wands that were in his left hand clattered to the ground.

Faith followed in the wake of the firecracker and hit the other two boys in the stomach. They lurched over and collapsed to the ground, one of them groaning loudly as he hit the hard earth. Faith could hear Pansy screaming like a banshee in the background. The girl had fallen in the chaos, and now scrambled back on her hands and feet like a crab. Faith heard Umbridge start a spell and found herself with barely enough time to react.

There was a loud crack.

Faith looked over to where the pink mess had fallen and saw that Ron had Umbridge's wand arm pinned firmly underneath his shoe. Whatever spell that she had fired had shot wildly into the forest on either side of them. She squirmed underneath his weight and shouted threats. He smiled at her and moved his foot onto her wand. Umbridge's eyes went wide as she realized what he was about to do. There was a crack as her wand snapped in half underneath Ron's weight.

Umbridge went still at the sudden loss of her wand. She was staring absently at the two pieces that still remained underneath Ron's foot. Ron smirked and stepped a little to the left, letting Umbridge see for herself that her wand was truly destroyed.

Faith smiled at Umbridge's silence and made her way over to where Draco had dropped all of the wands. They all looked the same to her, so she gathered them up and didn't try to sort them. She moved to where Ron was still standing over a mute Umbridge and handed them to him. He, at least, could sort them out while he stood there and gloated.

"HOW DARE YOU!" it sounded like Umbridge had finally come out of her shock. "YOU WILL PAY DEARLY FOR – "

But she never finished her sentence because at that moment Ron had decided to silence the shrieking woman. While still sorting though the wands, he causally flicked out a spell from his own. It hit Umbridge right in the forehead, and the woman face planted into the mud and budding grass.

Pansy (who had finally gotten back onto her feet) shrieked again, and ran to Umbridge's side. Faith grabbed her by the robe as she passed.

"Get your hands off of me?" Pansy yelled, her arms flailing.

Faith snatched the wand out of the girl's hand and tossed it into the woods.

"Hey!" she shrieked as Faith released her.

"You can go now," Faith smirked and gestured as if the Slytherin was a small child. Pansy almost collapsed onto the ground at Umbridge's side, trying desperately to wake the woman up. She couldn't do much good though without a wand. The pale girl glanced at the students warily, but didn't try anything. She was smart enough to know that she was outnumbered and outmatched.

"Thanks kid," Faith said, turning to the boy who was still standing off to the side. His eyes were wide with shock, and the color had drained from his face. After taking a moment to compose himself, he moved closer. As his features became clearer, Faith had to fight the urge to smile. Neville Longbottom. Well, a young pudgy version of Neville. He'd never mentioned to her that he'd been a bit rounder in his youth. She wished she'd known, Faith would have teased the hell out of him.

"Um, yeah I guess," he replied, stopping when he got near Hermione. "Who's she? And what in Merlin's name is going on here?"

"Lara Croft," Faith answered the first question as Ron handed her what she guessed was the fake wand. Maybe she should wrap the end in tape so it was recognizable to her. Really, all of the damn things looked the same.

Harry continued to stare at her, ignoring whatever Hermione and Neville were discussing. His gaze then flickered over to Ron. Harry looked – well she wasn't quite sure what type of look he was giving the two of them – but the underlying emotion was a cross between confusion and wariness. Not that Faith could blame him for being a bit unnerved. In fact, she had actually thought that he would have put up a greater fight about her coming along. She was a bit surprised that he'd been pretty calm about the entire matter.

"I can't believe she was going to cast an Unforgivable!" Hermione said, catching Faith's attention. "She's a government official! _Ron you just attacked a government official!_"

Ron smiled at Hermione as he walked towards where she was standing. He held her wand out to her almost as if it were a peace offering.

"And I enjoyed every minute of it," he added as he continued to hand the rest of the wands out to the others.

"Wasn't an official I elected, that's for sure," Faith muttered from the sidelines.

"You are going to get into so much trouble," said Hermione, her eyebrows furrowing in frustration. She couldn't seem to understand why the others weren't more upset about the situation.

"We can discuss this later," Harry said. "We need to get going."

Faith couldn't agree more. Her body was humming eagerly for some serious action. This little warm up with Umbridge had gotten her blood pumped up and now she wanted a bit more of a challenge.

They started moving towards the entrance. The hysterical sobs of Pansy followed them as they continued off Hogwarts grounds.

"Wait!" Neville called after Harry and Ron, the boy followed them at a slightly slower pace. "Where are you going?"

"Hogsmeade then London," Luna replied as she reached for his hand and began pulling him along faster. "Apparently you're supposed to come along as well."

"Why are we going to London?" Neville asked.

"To fight Death Eaters and save Stubby Bagman."

"But how are we going to get to London?" Hermione asked, giving Luna an odd look. She seemed to be mouthing 'Stubby Bagman' to herself.

"I think that they might help us," Luna replied, pointing to the forest that ran along the path.

Faith turned and saw horse-like creatures that were completely unfamiliar to her. No doubt they had come to investigate all of the commotion from earlier. They were scaly with wings that reminded her of a bat or gargoyle. Fucking ugly. Harry and Ron stopped besides her.

"What are you taking about?" Ginny asked coming to a halt. "I only see trees."

"Thestrals," Harry answered, walking closer to the creatures.

"Hagrid did say that they have an excellent sense of direction," Luna replied, approaching one of the creatures. The thing gave a distinctive neigh and stomped the ground with its front hoof. Faith followed closely behind Luna. She held out a hand and let the creature sniff it. Faith didn't have much experience with real horses, although she had seen them once or twice- on television. Harry moved next to her as well.

Faith looked back to see Ginny, Neville and Hermione looking around trying to see the creatures. Ron watched them through narrowed eyes but didn't approach.

"Hermione's right," Harry said, looking at Faith. "There is no way that we'll be able to get past Madam Rosmerta to use the Floo. Not all of us at least."

"I guess Thestrals it is," Faith smiled and eyed the beasts a bit more warily. She only hoped that her slayer abilities would translate to horseback riding. After all, Faith didn't fancy falling hundreds of feet. Her slayer powers were good, but not that good.


	11. The Ruining Properties of Prophecies

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A/N: This chapter contains quotes from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_, pages 770-806.

This chapter couldn't have been possible without my two Betas: fuu43 and angrymonkey. Their suggestions and comments helped significantly in making this chapter.

A huge thanks to whoever nomintated me for the The Fang Fetish Awards! I am honored and thrilled to be nominated in three catagories!

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue):**

Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

* * *

Mein Teil

Chapter 10: The Ruining Properties of Prophecies

* * *

The sun slowly set as Faith and the Hogwarts crew flew on the backs of Thestrals to London. While on the ground it had seemed like a warm spring day, the sky was a bright clear cold that easily cut through her clothes. She tried to keep her mind focused on the task at hand, but it was a lot more fun flying on the back of a Thestral than she'd thought it'd be. It reminded her of old times, hanging tightly onto Harry while riding shotty on a broom as they twisted and turned in an attempt to evade Death Eaters. She had loved the feeling of air rushing through her hair and the exhilaration of being so high in the sky. The danger that went with it had always been what drew her to the activity. And no one could deny that it hadn't been dangerous; after all Harry had always flown like a crazy son of a bitch.

Faith turned to see Ron riding to her right. She knew that he loved to fly as much as she did, but at the moment he looked uneasy. The slayer was fairly certain his tenseness sprang from Hermione, who clung to his waist tightly and hid her eyes in the back of Ron's jumper. The redness that tinted his cheeks Faith doubted was caused by the cold air. With only six Thestrals, two had had to pair up. Faith couldn't help but smile at the discomfort poor Ronnekins was undoubtedly feeling at the moment

Faith was beginning to realize that she could read gangly sixteen year old Ron like a poorly crafted children's book. The kid was terrible at pretending he couldn't see the Thestrals. He had groped around blindly and then made an awful attempt at climbing onto the creature like he was as dumbstruck as Hermione, Ginny and Neville. Ron was a lot of things, but an actor he was not. Faith was sure that she hadn't been the only one who had noticed either. Hermione had given him a befuddled look as he'd flailed around with a face that was reminiscent of a soap opera star's 'surprised and shocked' look. Thank God she hadn't said anything at that moment. Ron was having a hard enough time trying to respond to all of Harry and Hermione's questions. His lies seemed to get lamer by the minute and she was waiting for one of his best friends to call him out on it. Most people got better at lies over time, but Ron just seemed to defy the odds. He continued to be sucked deeper and deeper into the black hole of ridiculous and clearly phony untruths. So, he had lied about seeing the Thestrals, and he had done so very badly. Faith was certain his friends, who were more than fairly intelligent, could probably guess that he could see the creatures.

The ride took a good two hours before they finally neared the Ministry. As Faith slid off of the Thestral and stretched her stiff muscles, she noted how empty the Ministry and surrounding area looked. It was almost like the citizens of London knew that trouble was in the air. The night felt tense and the back of her mouth tasted stale and dry; only drunkards, tramps and thieves seemed brave enough to wander out into the darkness, and they loitered in close knit groups. She absently heard the others dismount as she continued to scout the streets, windows and alleyways.

"So, what exactly is our plan?" Hermione asked, rubbing her arms and shivering. "Just wander around the Department of Mysteries hoping that we'll find Sirius? Because I don't think that will exactly work."

"We're not going to wander around," Harry replied sharply, then softened his tone. "I know exactly where we are going. I only dream about it practically every night."

"You're missing my point Harry," she said in an exasperated voice. A shout came from a nearby pub and she flinched at the sudden sound. Hermione glanced briefly in the direction of the noise before turning back to him. "What we need is a plan. I don't quite fancy walking into a Death Eater trap without having some sort of escape route."

"The Department of Mysteries is huge and practically built like a maze," Ron answered, his cheeks finally starting to lose some of their color. "Our best bet would be to hide and ambush. Taking them on in a direct fight would be dangerous."

"Guerrilla warfare tactics," Faith said with a nod of her head.

"What's that?" Neville asked. He, like the rest of the students, gathered close to one another for privacy and warmth.

"Hide and ambush," Faith stated. Neville furrowed his eyebrows before seeming to come to some sort of conclusion on the tactic. She thought it was favorable, but Neville was surprisingly not the easiest person to read.

"The Death Eater's won't attack us right away," Ron put in. He seemed calmer now that they were in front of the Ministry. Faith could see him practically shift into soldier mode as he spoke. He stood straighter, lost the befuddled teenager look, and naturally drew everyone else's eyes to him. "First they'll try to bargain with Harry. We can take that opportunity to attack."

"What do you mean bargain with Harry?" Ginny asked, her hair a copper colored hair looked like a bird's nest from the wind. "How do you even know that?"

"That doesn't matter," Ron replied, his tone sounding like that of a lanky teenager who didn't feel the need to explain himself or his actions. Especially not to his snot nosed little sister.

"I think it does matter, actually," Ginny sneered back.

Ron watched Ginny and tapped his hand in a quick rhythm against his side. Faith was unsure what was going through his head, but she could guess. How much information did he need to divulge for his sister and everyone else to be satisfied?

"_You-Know-Who _has been trying to get Harry here all this year," Ron answered. Ginny looked from Ron to Harry, clearly confused. Ron watched his sister's reaction, and Faith could see the wheels turning. He looked at Harry, almost as if he was asking permission to tell Ginny, Luna and Neville why they were there. The information they had was severely limited. To save Sirius Black or/and fight Death Eaters… or something. But none of them knew how Harry had known anything about tonight. Harry didn't respond to Ron's look, but whatever Ron saw in Harry's expression was enough for him to proceed. "Harry's been getting images of what _he's_ been doing all fifth year. There's a weapon hidden somewhere in the Department of Mysteries, and _he's _been thinking about constantly. Somehow it relates to Harry we think. And if the Death Eaters want Harry to do something that will help _You-Know-Who_, they'll try to bargain with Harry first."

Ginny glared at Ron, clearly frustrated by his less then forthcoming answer. It was unclear to Faith what exactly Ginny wanted, and Faith watched curiously as the redheaded girl looked away and whispered something to Luna. It was too low for Faith to hear.

"Well, if we're all going to attack at the same time then we need to plan it out or something," Neville said.

"Neville's right," Hermione agreed in a no-nonsense tone of voice. "We need a code phrase or signal."

"How 'bout Harry telling the Death Eaters to go to hell?" Ron's words ran out of his mouth in a rush that seemed unplanned. The slight redness to his ears confirmed Faith's suspicions. Freckles not only was a bad liar, he obviously had no control over his mouth as well.

Faith snorted and Harry laughed with her. Some of the heavy tension seemed to dissipate and Faith saw both Ginny, Neville and Luna smile tightly.

"There's no reason to be rude." Hermione's words bit into the night air sharply. Even in the midst of planning attack, she seemed to think that there was no room for vulgar language. Faith resisted the urge to shake her head at the curly haired persnickety girl. Who was worried about insulting someone they were planning on hurting anyway?

"I like it," Harry grinned again. "Then we fire Reductos at their faces, grab Sirius and get back to the entry way as quick as possible."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Ron and Harry, willing them to change their minds. She huffed and turned away after they watched her blankly.

"That should give us enough time until the Order arrives for back up," Faith added, deciding to move things along as quickly as possible. The interactions between Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not quite the well-oiled machine that she remembered.

Harry scowled at her. "You don't know that they're coming. I couldn't talk with McGonagall because she was at Mungo's and Snape's a waste of space. He just ignored me when I tried to tell him about Padfoot."

"Well what did you expect him to do?" Hermione countered. "He couldn't ruin his cover with Umbridge standing right there."

"He could have at least given me some sort of sign that he understood," Harry's voice was hoarse with anger and frustration. "Sirius is dying and Snape doesn't give a rat's arse about it."

Silence followed Harry's statement, no one willing to contradict the harsh words. Out of the corner of Faith's eye, she could see Neville look at Ginny imploringly. He, out of the loop, seemed to try and figure out what Harry was going on about. Ginny shrugged her shoulders in response and tugged her hand through her tangled hair. Neville opened his mouth and looked at Harry, but just as quickly shut it and turned his gaze away.

"We need to get a move on," Faith said after a moment of awkward silence. "Um, how were you expecting to get into the building Harry?"

"Follow me," Harry led the way through the telephone booth and into the main entry way. Faith tried her best to look nonchalant, but with every step she could feel her adrenalin rising. She was ready for this. Faith carefully pinned her shinny new name tag to the dark sweater under her cloak.

_Lara Croft_

_Rescue Mission_

She snorted at the silliness of it, but decided that the button was almost cool enough to save. Faith swore lightly as she pricked her finger, and wondered why wizards hadn't thought up something magically awesome that could fix the pin without drawing blood.

The Ministry of Magic that Faith stepped into looked like nothing she had ever seen. Voldemort must have done some serious remolding on the place after he had taken over. And as terrible as it was, Faith almost preferred the Dark Lord's decorating style. At least he had enough sense to take down the hideous statue in the entryway. Preferring the building dark, brooding, and heavily guarded probably said something about her 'issues,' but she couldn't ever show respect to such an ugly style explosion.

Faith took off her cloak and poked at Ron who ambled next to her. The contact barely made him flinch. Instead, he just looked at her annoyed.

"What?" he asked, rubbing at his arm. Faith must have done it harder then she'd thought.

"Shrink this so I can put it in my pocket," she wasn't asking. "It's just going to get in my way."

Ron waved his wand and the cloak shrunk until it was the size of a dryer sheet. Faith noticed Harry watching the interaction between the two of them as he strolled past, wand out and eyes bright. She kept an eye on Harry's back as she shoved the newly shrunk cloak into her back pocket.

Fuck, Faith hoped that this was going to work. Harry was certainly going out on a limb trusting her, and breaking that newly formed bond was something that Faith simply couldn't afford to do. She wasn't quite sure why he was doing it in the first place and was certain that he would only keep out of her business as much as he had to. As soon as they got back the questions would start again, and this time the urgency of the situation would not deter Harry. If tonight went badly, then any future conversations were going to be difficult and filled with blame and doubt. She wanted Harry to trust her; no she _needed_ Harry to trust her.

Faith had made a promise that she would protect him and she was not going to fail. Not again. There were not a lot of people that Faith could say she felt anything resembling loyalty towards. In fact, she could probably count them on her fingers. But Harry was one of them, and while he might not return those feelings yet, she was planning on sticking by his side no matter what.

Hermione shuffled up from behind, her shorter legs struggling to match Harry's determined gate. Her steps brought Faith out of her musings and back to the impending situation at hand.

"Is that a gun?" Hermione's voice was halfway between shock and fear as she stared at the slayer. Faith glanced down at the shoulder harness and what it carried. She had nearly forgotten about it.

"Yep," Faith had lost all qualms about using guns a long time ago. They were mighty useful when fighting wizards, and when loaded with the right kind of bullets- some demons too.

"Are you insane?" she shrieked back. "You might kill someone!"

"That's the point. I want to be able to fire something back while they're shooting killing curses at me from across the room," Faith glared at Hermione. "Sorry kiddo, but childhood's over. War's coming, whether you're ready or not."

Hermione opened her mouth to say more but never got out any words. Instead, she studied Faith's face, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her eyes examined Faith, but the slayer could see that Hermione was looking through her and not really at her. A few seconds later Hermione turned away and looked toward Harry. He was watching them carefully, though his eyes quickly darted away.

"Perhaps," she replied, and continued walking. Faith smiled. _There _was a little bit of the bushy haired warrior that Faith remembered. Harry watched Hermione walk past him, seemingly surprised by her answer. He turned quickly in order to follow.

Faith hoped that Hermione thought a bit more about what Faith had said to her. As she followed Harry and Hermione, watching them whisper conspiratorially to each other, she was struck by how much younger they really were. It was strange, while Ron certainly looked different, he acted like the Ron she had known for so long. But Harry and Hermione were changed, they had that bright spot of naiveté that seemed to cloud most youth. It was dangerous. They needed to grow up, and fast. The war would only begin in a few short years and they were light years away from being prepared. How they had managed to survive the first time around was beyond Faith. Their training was weak and she was almost certain that that had been one of Harry's strongest downfalls. Schoolyard spells were no where near enough to fight Death Eater's with. How in the hell the Order or Dumbledore overlook that matter was beyond her. By the time the war had come, they'd had no choice but to struggle through at less than their full potential.

"Can I have another firework?" Faith attempted to pull Ron out of his funk. He stared morosely at the ground in front of his feet and looked up sharply at the sound of her voice. She knew that he had been thinking the exact same thing she'd been only moments ago. Faith and Ron had always been alike. His thought processes tended to follow the same channels as hers. It was useful at times and damn annoying at others.

"Here, take three," Ron sighed, coming out of his thoughts and shoving them into her hands.

Faith smiled at his reaction. It was a typical Ron response. Faith had been known for her poor planning skills, especially when the planning had had anything to do with weaponry. It wasn't her fault though. She had always brought the ones that she'd known she'd need and Ron had always brought loads of others. He'd tried to be prepared for every scenario. It wasn't as if Faith had needed any more than what she'd brought, but she hadn't been against trying out something new and cool that Ron had packed. And he'd always brought the sweetest stuff.

She shoved the firecrackers in her other back pocket as deeply as they'd go. They barely fit into the tight leather.

Ginny gave Faith a sideways glance as she quickly passed and tapped at Hermione's shoulder. There was definitely something on her mind and the girl was clearly unused to holding her tongue. At least she'd managed to tame the tangled mess that had sat on her head. Faith had heard stories about the spunky red headed sibling, but not many. Harry hadn't liked to talk about her, his face would close up and he'd quickly find some excuse to exit the conversation. While Neville or Hermione would remember the girl fondly, they would always hush up when Ron or Harry came around. Hermione had hinted to Faith that Ginny's death had changed Harry more then anyone else. Faith just wished that Ginny would say whatever it was that was on her mind instead glaring daggers at her. It wasn't until they all crammed into the elevator that she finally spoke.

"So you're the American, right?" she asked a bit forcefully, reminding Faith of Ron when he was in a foul temper.

"Um, what?" Faith replied, not quite sure what Ginny was going on about.

"The American that attacked me last month," said Ginny. "You certainly look a bit different. So how'd you meet my brother anyway?"

"Ginny," warned Ron, his voice low. "Not now."

"Oh really Ron? Then when?"

The brother and sister glowered at each other. While Ron's stare was definitely scarier than his sisters, she had the perfect 'you may be older but I don't have to listen to you' glare.

"Yeah, ah… sorry about," Faith smiled. "I was sent to help your brother and Harry."

Ginny's look was skeptical, but Faith would have been worried if it wasn't. She _was _just some American girl who had shown up and disappeared with the girl's brother. She knew that only Harry and Hermione had been told that Ron had experienced visions. Ginny, on the other hand, had been handed one craptastic excuse after another. Ron had said in Hogsmeade that he had been avoiding his sister, that she was becoming a lot more forceful in demanding answers.

"From whom?" asked Ginny.

"The Powers That Be," Faith smiled at the girl. Let her try to figure that one out.

Ginny looked confused a moment before saying, "You're saying that _God _sent you here to help Harry?"

Her words were spoken scathingly, but Faith couldn't help but laugh. It was loud and filled the crammed elevator. She jostled into Harry and Neville who were stuffed into the corner behind her. They eyed her annoyingly before turning away.

"Hey! You're the one that said it," Ginny hissed.

It was the strange girl Luna who answered.

"No, they're not God," Luna said with an understanding smile. "They're higher level beings who help maintain the balance of the universe. They did not create the universe."

Faith couldn't put it any better, and she grinned at the girl as the elevator doors opened.

"We're here," Luna said, leaving a still smiling Faith and a frustrated Ginny behind her as she exited.

The hallway beyond the elevator was an inky black that felt cold and still. Faith had been there before. The first time that she'd broken into the Ministry had been to save Neville from certain death. Faith had barely recognized him. She'd practically had to carry him out over her shoulder and had heard later that he'd been unconscious for over a week.

Faith shook her head and followed Harry. Now was not the time to be thinking about the past. He led the way to a door that she had never passed through. Harry slowly opened it and stepped inside the connecting room. As Faith followed, she eyed the blue-flamed candles and the large shadows they cast on the walls of the circular room. Weird. The doors that ran all along the walls looked like exact copies of each other. Faith was used to creepy places in her line of work. There were only a few places on earth where Faith could literally feel the hair on the back of her neck rise – the Mayan ruins of Azzopl, and Sunnydale High School. The super creeper Department of Mysteries could officially now be added to that list.

Faith took a deep breath, fuck she was excited. She felt like she had been sitting around doing nothing for weeks. Faith had never been meant for a desk job, researching objects that might be Horcruxes had been like a drill to the skull. This is what she lived for. . . .the battle. Just the thought of it made her entire body flood with adrenaline. It made her skin tingled and she was tempted to check for bugs on her arms.

"Someone shut the door," Harry said, his soft voice breaking the silence

Neville, who had walked through last, turned and closed the door behind him. As the door clicked shut, the room began to spin. It was like accidentally stepping into a carnival ride. The doors on the wall would have been blurry for normal humans, but Faith's eyes could easily track the movements. Unfortunately, Faith hadn't expected the walls to spin, and had been busy trying to control herself. Just thinking about the battle was enough for her to crave either of her favorite past times - killing demons and fucking -And right now neither were appropriate. Taking a deep breath, she made sure to let it out slowly.

"Where to now?" Hermione asked, her eyes moving over the doors warily.

Faith hadn't even realized that the doors had stopped spinning. She ran her hands over her face, willing herself to get her head in the game. There were more important matters to concentrate on right now.

"Never mind that," Neville muttered, apprehensively looking around. "How are we supposed to get out?"

"We'll figure that out later. Right now we need to find Sirius," Harry shrugged. "Sirius!"

The sound of his voice echoed throughout the room.

"Don't yell his name Harry," Hermione hushed with a pointed look. "Remember, it's a trap and we're supposed to be sneaking around."

Harry looked annoyed at Hermione but refrained from yelling anymore. He glanced around at all of the doors.

"Where we going?" Faith asked Harry. Her sense of direction was useless in a place like this. Hell, she could barely focus in a place like this.

"I'm not sure, in my dreams I've always walked straight ahead purposefully," Harry said.

They started checking rooms at random, going in just long enough to check things out. The first room they investigated had a tank full of brains that made Ron go very still. They swam around like jellyfish and were eerily pretty. Faith almost made a joke about a 'school of brains,' before deciding that it probably wasn't appropriate. It took a moment for Faith to realize that these were the brains that had attacked Ron. The crisscrossing tentacle scars on his arms hadn't faded as he'd gotten older. Harry and Hermione shot Ron worried glances, clearly seeing his uneasiness, before moving on. Hermione marked the door with a fiery X before they closed the door.

The second room they investigated looked like a large arena with an archway in the center pit. If Faith remembered what she had been told, this was the room where Sirius had died. Like many other subjects, Harry hadn't talked much about the man. But she was able to gather that Harry had thought the world of his Godfather. Sirius sounded like someone after her own heart. Faith wonder if maybe this time around she would be able to meet the man. She glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye and watched the blood drain from his face. Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not going to happen," she whispered to him comfortingly.

Harry looked at it a moment longer before purposefully turning away, "Let's go."

This room was marked with an X as well.

The third room they tried was locked. Harry pulled out a switch blade from his pocket, when Ron told him to stop.

"It's not this one mate," he said. "Trust me. It'll just burn through the metal and I have a feeling we might need that knife in the future."

They marked the door and turned to the next one.

Faith knew the moment the door opened that it was the correct room. Harry stiffened before rushing forward, he had recognized it instantly. Faith followed past a room full of clocks and hour glasses to the door at the far end. As they passed through the room, Faith felt a bitter bubble of laughter stick in her throat. Here Ron and Faith were, in a room dedicated to time- And they had managed to bend it to their will. Her eyes were drawn to the hummingbird that was hatching, maturing, dying and transforming once more into an egg. If something had gone wrong with the spell, could the two of them have been stuck in some sort of twisted life cycle? Jesus, that was a scary thought.

"This is it," Harry muttered, drawing her eyes to him. Harry stood before a door, his hand tentatively resting on the handle. "It's through here –"

Faith glanced around at the others as Harry opened the door. Ginny's expression, which had been awe while staring at the hummingbird, changed the moment they walked into the hall. She wasn't the only one who was looking uneasy, yet determined. Though how Luna managed to look uneasy, determined and dreamy Faith had no idea. The members of the D.A. carried their wands out in a ready position. It made Faith realize that she was doing a piss poor job with her own wand. While she was carrying it in her hand, she had pretty much forgotten that it was there. Faith briefly thought of pulling out the more practical weapon from her shoulder harness, but easily dismissed the idea. She couldn't put all her cards out on the table yet.

Harry led the way and was closely followed by Ron and Hermione. Ginny, Luna, Neville followed close behind, and Faith took up the rear position.

What was the best way for Faith to handle this situation? Would it be better for her to hide amongst the stacks of orbs or stay with the group? Faith knew that she had a disadvantage with this fight. Slayers were meant to fight demons and monsters. Wizards were a different matter entirely. It was difficult to pummel a wizard into the ground when you couldn't get close enough to knock their weapon away. If she were lucky enough to get the wand away from them, then the fighting was a piece of cake.

Faith had been lucky enough to fight them previously with a whole different arsenal of weapons. Unfortunately, those weapons hadn't been developed yet and wouldn't be for some time. Hell, she'd even had her own wand-gun thingy that had had two spell programmed into it – any two spell that she'd wanted! Oh, the combinations she'd tried! She'd also had a nifty shield charm that she'd been able to activate that had almost been like the real thing. To be quite honest, she felt almost a little exposed without them. The gun against her side felt inadequate and hopelessly outmatched.

Buffy had always been against guns, had said words and made faces that made her stance more than obvious. But for Faith, over the years she'd come to a realization, they were a practical solution. It was true that she liked her fights to be a hands on experience, enjoyed the thrill of a good old fashioned throw down, but she had never considered herself noble. Faith was not afraid to fight dirty. She also wasn't afraid to use any weapon that she could get her hands on. She had one goal, and that was to win. Most wizards' shields were for spells, not bullets. Bullets were small, fast and lethal. Wizards didn't get guns, and she'd run across more than one wizard who had openly scoffed at the _obsolete_ Muggle weapon. She'd been able to mow down tons of dark wizards who had simply been too stupid to correct their shields to prevent bullet penetration. Unfortunately, the one wizard whom she would have loved to end with a bullet, Lucius Malfoy, had been an exception to the rule. For a Muggle hating bastard, he had still known what a gun was. She had seen him sneer at the sight of them and had been easily able to deflect them. Fucker.

"He should be near here," Harry said, swallowing tightly and looking around desperately. They had reached row ninety-seven while her mind had wandered and her skin tingled. "Anywhere here . . . really close."

Harry glanced worriedly at Ron and then Faith. She knew exactly what he was thinking. If Sirius wasn't here, then where was he? The confusion in Harry's eyes was evident. Faith tried to hide the guilt that was creeping up from her stomach and settling thickly in her throat. She silently thanked whomever was listening that Harry didn't know her well enough to recognize the avoiding eye contact for what it was.

"Harry," Ron said, grabbing Harry's attention. "Have you seen this?" Ron pointed at the prophecy which sat high up on a shelf, his hand lightly shaking. "It's got your name on it."

Harry walked over to where Ron stood, trying to get a closer look. Ron remained uncommonly quiet. He was fiddling with the bottom edge of his sweater, a tell tale sign that he was feeling guilty. Ron met her eyes and tried to smile, but only a weak imitation formed on his face. She knew exactly how he felt. Ron had just sealed Harry's fate.

Faith turned away and focused on the shelves upon shelves of orbs. Were the Death Eaters already hiding somewhere in the stacks? She couldn't see or hear any Death Eaters moving around in the dark, and she knew that she had pretty damn good hearing. More likely they were cloaking themselves under notice-me-not spells. Fucking wizards and magic.

The only thing that she could sense in the darkness was that they were being watched.

"I don't think you should touch it," Hermione warned.

"Why not?" answered Harry. "It's got my name on it."

"I fucking hate those things," Faith spoke, the words slipping out unintentionally.

"You know what it is?" Harry's hand paused in mid air.

"Yeah, it's a prophecy," Faith replied, not bothering to look back. Instead she avoided eye contact and tried to focus on the Death Eaters that were watching them. Where the hell could they be? More than one Death Eater was hiding in the stacks, that she was sure of. They bided their time, silently waiting for Harry to arrive and retrieve the prophecy for their master.

"What?" Harry turned towards her and Faith gave into the urge to meet his gaze. His voice was laced with suspicion. Surprisingly, it was the first time tonight that she'd heard such a tone from Harry. Faith didn't like hearing it either. "How do you know that?"

"Heard of this place," she finally replied, deciding on half truths. "I think we're in the Hall of Prophecies."

"Ron, did you know about this?" Harry asked his voice still heavy with mistrust.

Ron didn't say anything but shook his head in confirmation. "It's about you, and Vol-Voldemort."

Ron's stutter of Voldemort's name didn't go unnoticed by Faith. But with the possibility that the Dark Lord's name already had the Taboo on it, she was surprised that Ron was uttering it at all. Some things never changed.

"And you didn't think that was important to mention before?"

Ron's mouth moved but no words came out. He finally answered, "I didn't know how to tell you. And I was a little preoccupied with Sirius."

Harry nodded and turned back towards the shelf.

"Harry," Faith said. "Before you grab that, I want to you to know that prophecies are never final."

He stared at the shelf for a few moments, considering what Faith had said. Faith had a feeling that they would talk about it later. Actually, she had a feeling that they were going to talk about _a lot _of things later.

"Everyone get ready," he whispered, obviously unsure what would happen once the prophecy left the shelf. The group tensed up as he grabbed the orb. He seemed to relax for a second when there wasn't an instant explosion. Harry gave Hermione a small smile which quickly vanished as a voice came from their right.

"Very good Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly and give that to me."

Faith smiled at the drawling voice. She would recognize it anywhere. After all it was hard to forget the voice of the sick bastard known as Lucius Malfoy. And to think, she had just finished kicking his son's ass and was now getting the opportunity to hand the father's his as well.

Faith hoped that the group would stick to what they'd discussed earlier. Listen for Harry's phrase and fire. Stick to guerilla warfare tactics – hide and ambush – that was the best way to beat those who were stronger and more skilled than they were. Not stronger or more skilled than Faith, but well, more than everybody else. Then again, Faith was at an unwelcome disadvantage too.

Lucius held out his hand as he walked closer, "The Prophesy, Mr. Potter."

He looked almost exactly like she remembered him. The hair, face and practically porcelain skin hadn't aged in ten years.

"Where's Sirius?!" Harry yelled back, pulling the orb closer to him. The group moved in towards Harry, and Faith could see the whiteness of their knuckles as they clutched at their wands. Other gleaming masks were visible in the pale light. They moved closer from all directions and appeared from behind shelves in the distance. Faith wasn't the only one to notice the others approach. Ron stiffened and poked Luna who stood to the left of him. He didn't say anything to the blond, so Faith wasn't sure if she got the message.

Before Faith could turn her attention to the others, another voice caught her attention.

"The Dark Lord always knows!" a female cackled from behind Lucius. Neville stiffened besides Faith; he seemed to recognize the voice as well. Bellatrix Lestrange, what a fucking psycho bitch.

"Always," repeated Lucius serenely. "Now give me the prophecy, Potter."

"Where's Sirius?!" Harry screamed again.

_"Where's Sirius?!"_ echoed Bella in her baby voice that was worse than nails on a chalkboard. _"Little baby Potter had a bad dream and needs his Godfather. Too bad that his Godfather is still sleeping safe and soundly in his own bed."_

"I know Sirius is here!" Harry tried one more time. The anger in his voice beginning to turn to desperation. Neville took a few steps forward in the direction of Lucius and Bellatrix, but Faith grabbed onto his wrist to stop him. She doubted that he would outright attack Bellatrix, but wouldn't put money on it. The kid had been a pit bull when she'd known him. He shot Faith an angry look for interfering.

"Just wait," Faith whispered. If her words were noticed by the Death Eaters, they were ignored. Neville focused his wand on the woman who looked as if she were falling apart at the seams, but made no move to attack.

"It's about time that you realize the differences between your dreams and reality Potter," Malfoy smirked. "Now, give me the prophecy or we will be forced to take it from you."

Harry brought up his wand and a familiar look of determination entered his eyes. "I'd like to see you try."

The rest of the D.A. followed his lead and brought up their wands as well. Not all of them were focused ahead either. While Malfoy and Harry were talking, they had fanned out into a circle, facing all four of the halls that converged there. Ron and Luna were facing the Death Eater at Harry's back. Neville stood with Harry, still focused on Bellatrix. Hermione was standing to Harry's right, looking back and forth from where she stood with Ginny to Malfoy and Harry. Faith stood to Harry's left and easily covered her section independently. She held her wand out too, in her left hand though. Her right hand concealed a firecracker, which was much more useful than the toy wand.

Faith's body drummed with excitement. The thrill of the battle that had been calling to her since she'd entered the Department of Mysteries was bubbling beneath her skin. Her senses focused ahead and her fingers tightened.

Bellatrix laughed. "Oh the little babies think that they can fight us!"

"Yes, well I fought your boss Voldemort and won, so I highly doubt that you'll be much of a problem," Harry responded with an arrogance she hadn't seen him display yet. His eyes flickered to the aisle on his left.

Faith grinned at the first Death Eater in front of her. She could make out the masks of two more behind him. So, if every aisle had three Death Eaters in it, and there were four aisles converging on them - then she supposed that there would be a total of twelve Death Eaters. But honestly, Faith was shit with math so she hardly trusted her calculations. Of course, that was if all the Death Eaters were good little minions and ordered themselves up all nicely too. Not to mention that she was almost certain that there were more hiding amongst the other shelves incase the kids got away.

_"How dare you!"_ Bellatrix shrieked, striding forward. Lucius stopped her progress with a raised hand.

"Calm down Bella," Lucius replied silkily. He sounded like a patient babysitter chiding bad children. "Harry, you can hardly expect to fight all of us and win. Things would be much easier, not to mention healthier, if you just handed the prophecy over."

_"Why don't you just go to hell?"_ Harry yelled, and the tension that had been building all night exploded.

Six voices cried "REDUCTO" only seconds later. Instead of standing there and watching them fire curses, Faith gave the nearest shelf a well placed kick and launched the fire cracker. She knew she was overdoing it a bit, but she was never one to hold back. The firecracker lit up the aisle and slammed into the center of the Death Eater in front of her. He screamed as his robes burst into flames. Brightly colored sparks crackled around him. Glass orbs rained down onto the marble floor. Harry hadn't even needed to yell for everyone to run because everyone already knew. The goal was to make it back to the entry way.

Faith dashed down a hallway to her right. She could hear curses and the eerie voices of Seers echoing through the air. Faith wasn't sure what directions the others had gone, but she was certain that Ron would see to their escape. She, on the other hand, had no plans to run away like the others. Hearing an unknown male voice behind her, she dove to the ground and reached into the smoke ball pouch on her belt. A red light soared above her head. As she leapt back onto her feet, she chucked one of the black balls at his face. It hit the Death Eater hard on his cheek, cracking and releasing smoke. Fumes engulfed the man and continued to spread outward until the dark blanket covered her as well. She took a step back and exited the wall of smoke, magic keeping it from spreading or dissipating. Faith willingly stepped back into the haze. It would be nice if it had zonked the guy out, but either way she would take advantage.

Faith didn't need to see the Death Eater in the smoke to know where he was. Smashing into him, she tackled him to the ground. The skull mask was cold in her hands as she grabbed onto the top edge of it and forcefully slammed his head into the hard floor. The confrontation was over in seconds and the Death Eater lay still where she left him.

She quickly got to her feet and moved away from the scene. It didn't look like anyone else had followed her. Most of the Death Eaters had probably went after Harry. Faith quietly made her way back to where Harry had picked up the prophecy. She jammed her wand into her braid and listened for other Death Eaters who could still be close by. From a few shelves over Malfoy yelled at the others to pursue the kids.She knew that Harry was the one that most of them would try to follow. And though that was eventually where she'd end up as well, she first wanted to take down Malfoy.

Faith silently moved forward. Lucius' voice echoed in the halls, but for her it was easy to pinpoint his location. She stopped when there was only one standing shelf between the two of them. She crept closer and listened as Malfoy shouted at Bella. Bella's footsteps scurried off, toward what she assumed was the far door. Listening carefully, waited for Malfoy to turn and follow after her.

Faith smiled and peeked around the last remaining shelf. Malfoy's back was to her and his cloak hung from his shoulders in a dark veil. Despite the distracting cloak, Faith took aim at the man. Her hand was steady as she lined up her shot. Giles would probably be pissed if she killed Malfoy, but that was a consequence she was willing to deal with.

How Lucius knew she was there watching him would forever be a mystery to Faith. Maybe he was just a lucky bastard or had freaky bat like hearing? Either way, before she could get off a shot Lucius whirled around, perfect scowl in place. Faith fired anyway, but knew immediately that she was too late. She thought to try again, but didn't have time to do much of anything before the shelf in front of her exploded in a shower of wood and glass.

Faith flung herself away and back, coughing at the heavy dust that rained down on her. Her shoulder hit the marble floor hard and her teeth clicked painfully together. Quickly jumping back to her feet, she managed to scramble behind another shelf.

"You think I didn't notice that you were the only one to run in a different direction?" Lucius called. She remained still and let the man speak, listening to him approach the shelf she had just retreated from.

Faith remained silent and grinned at Lucius' quiet curse. He had clearly expected to find her beneath the debris.

"Now, the only question is who you are?" he recovered quickly. "Not a student, that's for sure."

Faith still didn't answer, creeping between shelves and trying to find a good spot to wait and ambush.

"An Order member maybe?" he continued. "But why would there only be one present? I thought that you tended to travel in packs. Like dogs."

Faith paused at his voice. It sounded as if he had left the center hallway and moved deeper into the stacks. She shifted around another case, following the man's drawl. Lucius continued to walk and she was certain from the sound of his voice that he was in the aisle she'd just left. Glass sporadically littered the floor and Faith had to plant her feet carefully to avoid it. Lucius walked loudly, his footsteps audible from the crunching glass he carelessly stepped on.

"Then there was that hideous _Muggle _weapon that you attacked me with. You must feel right at home with that Muggle-loving fool, Arthur Weasley."

Faith leaned forward and tried to peer through some of the glass orbs. The glass balls however were thickly made, murky and tightly packed. Blurred images shown through them and Faith didn't know if she was seeing a distorted reflection of herself or a miracle appearing of the Virgin Mary.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," Lucius half sang, half mocked. His voice was getting closer by the second. "Or is the little girl afraid of the big bad wolf?"

Faith crouched down and sighted her gun through two of the orbs, waiting for the self proclaimed wolf to arrive. Well, this wolf was about to learn that Little Red Riding-hood didn't need some neighbor to come and save her. A vague shape appeared on the other side of the glass. Faith smiled as Lucius walked across her path.

She pulled the trigger and heard Lucius curse in pain. Faith didn't waste a moment; she put all of her weight against the shelf and pushed. With a crash it tumbled down on Malfoy. She covered her head with her arms as orbs crashed around her.

She stepped over the ruined shelf and picked her way over to Malfoy. Sprawled out on the ground, a small pool of blood puddled near his left thigh. It was hardly visible on the dark floor of the hall, but she could clearly smell the sharp scent that the red liquid produced.

Though she thought him down for the count, Lucius rolled quickly to his right and leveled his wand at her. He shot a red spell and she barely had enough time to dodge out of the way. Her knees scrapped against the floor as she crouched low and balanced on her hands. Glass dug into the soft flesh of her fingers and palms. The spell had missed her shoulder by inches.

Jumping back onto her feet, she brought up her gun. She aimed for his chest and fired, only to see a small hole appear in the floor two feet to the left of the Death Eater. Faith knew damn well that her aim wasn't that bad, the bastard must have placed a deflection spell on himself after the shot to his leg. Damn it, she wished he couldn't do that. Faith followed in after the bullet, hoping to catch the blond by surprise. She wanted to pound his pretty face into the floor, a plan that had been highly successful with the last Death Eater she'd ran across.

She came at him fast but he was ready for her and sent her flying through the air with a flick of his wand. Faith crashed into another shelf full of prophecies. The orbs burned her skin as she collided with them, and she hissed and struggled to get up. Soft voices filled the air; Faith ignored them. Shaking slightly, she felt the glass pieces that hadn't penetrated slid from her frame and land noisily on the ground. Faith tried to disregard all of the pieces that had remained.

Malfoy had already managed to move himself up and off the floor. Faith could only guess that he was behind one of the stacks, taking care of the bullet that was now imbedded in his flesh. Faith had a suspicion that he'd had to deal with them before. She hoped that it hurt like a son of a bitch.

"Where'd ya go pretty boy?" Faith called. She listened for an answer but he remained quiet. Faith moved closer to the last spot she had seen Malfoy.

From the corner of her eye she could see green light approaching fast. She dropped to the ground just as the killing curse zoomed over her head. The curse had come from her right, and she moved over as another curse, this one a deep purple, followed. Faith fired a firecracker in the direction of the purple light and heard a shout as the firecracker erupted. Whatever shield he had conjured had not been enough to hold off the Weasley's creation.

Faith charged in the direction that she'd heard him. Malfoy tried to struggle to his knees, his perfect looks finally marred with dirt and blood, but she intercepted him before he even noticed that she had moved. She grabbed his wand arm and flung him into a shelf as hard as she could. His wand was pointed up and a spell fired wildly into the air. Faith had to let go of his arm to avoid being hit in the face. The yellow light created sparks that lit up the hall and turned Lucius' pale skin a sickly color. He recovered fast and fired off another spell.

A sharp pain went through her left shoulder. She had gotten pretty good at recognizing spells by color and the type of pain they caused, but this time she had no luck. Whatever it was, it hurt like hell. Her shoulder crackled and burned, the muscles and bones grinding into one another. Faith only hoped that whatever it was didn't spread anywhere else. Gritting her teeth, pain rocked through her arm as she tested its movement. Malfoy glared at her and brought a hand to the blood that was now flowing from his cheek.

Faith really wished that she had a better weapon. She never ran from a fight, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now, but she had to admit that she was sick and tired of rolling through glass.

"Such a crude, _Muggle _weapon," he sneered.

Faith braced herself and waited for his next attack. Her eyes moved from his wand to his face, looking for any signs of movement. Light began to collect in the space around Malfoy, and Faith backed away quickly.

A second later hundreds of shards of glass shot forward. There was no where to dodge, no shelves that she could hide behind. She lowered her head and brought up her hands in an attempt to shield her face. Faith could feel the burn of thousands of tiny shards as they cut through cloth and skin. The impact knocked her back and she rolled as she hit the floor. She wasn't able to hang on to the gun, and it skidded across the room and underneath a shelf. Lucius was above her in seconds.

"Crucio," he hissed.

Faith withered in pain. Malfoy knew what he was doing. He knew how to control the spell and how to maximize the pain. Her nerves burned and she could think of nothing else except the agony. Even after he released the spell, she could still feel the lingering effects.

Her slayer healing was fast, but not nearly fast enough to jump up and give him the face-breaking punch that he was practically begging for.

"Stupid little girl," he whispered, now only inches from her. The blood on his cheek stood out sharply as it dripped down his porcelain face. "Crucio."

Pain engulfed her again.

"I might not know who you are," he said, releasing the spell. His breath was hot on her cheek. Faith's right hand searched over the rubble on the ground around her. What she needed was a large shard of glass to put into the fucker's head. Her hand wrapped around one of the orbs still intact. "But you need to be taught a lesson."

Before he could utter the curse again, Faith hit the side of his head with a satisfying crunch. He slumped over. She hoped that he was dead.

"_– her own kind to save us all,"_ the shadowy figure from the smashed orb finished whispering. Faith paused and looked down at the glass remains that lay in her bloody palm. She let them fall to the floor.

She shoved Lucius off of her and pushed herself up and onto her knees. Looking over her damaged body, she stopped to take stock of just how badly she was hurt. The small cuts that covering her would probably heal within the hour she guessed. The process though would be a hell of a lot less painful if Faith was able to get glass out before her body started closing itself up. Hopefully, Ron would be able to help her out with that later because there was no way that she would be able to find every shard on her own.

Frowning, she stood and looked around at the mess she'd made. The glass ball she had hit Malfoy with lay shattered along with all of the others. She looked over to the side at one of the few shelves that still remained standing. In-between the spheres on the shelf was an open space. With a jolt to her stomach she realized that she had hit Malfoy with that orb, that she had grabbed it and felt no burning. No pain at all.

Her stomach dropped and she resisted the urge to stomp her feet.

Just fucking great. She had managed to smash the one prophecy about her.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!!_

And there was nothing that she could do about it now.

__

Absolutely fucking nothing!

A small card lay next to Malfoy, the script written in a heavy cursive. She picked it up.

__

R.P.G. to J.A.G.

Buffy Summers (?) or Faith Lehane (?)

and Apocalypse

She frowned and shoved the card into her pocket - nothing like a prophecy to ruin a person's day. And one about her and the apocalypse? Just super.

From beside her, Malfoy let out a groan. Faith kicked him on the left side of his head, hard. There was a sickeningly snap as the right side of his face collided with the floor. Blood began to pool out underneath his pale skin. Faith couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.  
Faith stepped over the body, careful to not get any blood on her shoes, and hurried towards the door. She paused a moment to look for her gun but it was no where in sight. It had been lost somewhere in between the rubble and the shelves. There was always a chance of course that a wizard could link it to her, but she would have to cross that bridge when she got to it. At the moment, she didn't have the time to crawl around and search for it. She needed to catch up with the others.

The time room was a complete mess. It was almost in as much disarray as the Hall of Prophecies. Faith quickly realized that she wasn't alone in the room, but the Death Eater was clearly in no position to notice her. Hell, he was probably one of the reasons that the room was in such chaos. The Death Eater bashed his head into various walls and flung furniture around. Upon closer examination she realized that there was something wrong with his head. Instead of being fully grown of a man, it was the head of an infant. Faith wasn't sure how that had happened and wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

She heard more noise to her left and noticed an open door. She sprinted in that direction.

"HERMIONE!" Harry's voice was an urgent shout.

Faith could see the back of a Death Eater as she approached the doorway. She took great care not to alert him to her presence as she looked around him and into the room beyond. Further in the room were Harry, Neville and an unconscious Hermione. Harry caught her eye. He seemed only momentarily surprised, probably not recognizing her at first. Faith crept up behind the Death Eater and smashed her fist into the back of his skull. There was crack and he slumped to the ground, unconscious, maybe dead, whatever. Faith didn't really give a fuck. She stepped over his body and into the room.

"You okay?" she asked Harry. He was eying her up and down, probably taking notice of the semi-ripped state of her clothing and the blood that covered her.

"Hermione's been hit," Harry finally said, and Faith watched his hand wander over the girl's neck, searching for a pulse.

Neville crawled out from beneath the desk he had been hiding under. There was blood pouring out from his nose. Faith was certain that it was broken. He grabbed her wrist and felt around for a pulse.

"Dat's a pulse, Harry, I'b sure id is," Neville said, his condition obviously obstructing normal speech patterns.

"We need to find the others and get out of here," Harry whispered. "We're not far from the circular room and the exit. I'm sure that we can get there before anymore Death Eaters come through . . . take Hermione and get some help, raise the alarm. Lara and I will find the others." He turned to Faith and asked. "You're sure that the Order members will be here?"

Faith nodded.

"I'm not leabing you two," Neville replied, not even trying to stem the blood flow.

"But Hermione –"

"We'll take her widb us," Neville said. He grabbed Hermione's arms and tried to swing her over his shoulder. Harry sighed and helped lift her up. Neville started towards the door, but Harry stopped him.

"Here, you better take this," he said, handing to Neville what Faith guessed was Hermione's wand.

"My gran's going do kill be," Neville said miserably, kicking his broken wand out of the way, "dat was by dad's old wand."

"You'll be alright carrying her?" Faith asked, peering in the time room at the man-baby who was busy making a fuss in the far corner. She could carry Hermione if need be, but that would not really help her in a fight. Besides, Faith was certain that she would have to take out a few more Death Eaters before the night was through.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Neville replied.

"He'll never notice us," Faith said. "Let's go."

Faith led the way to the circular room. Once they were out of the time room, the door slammed shut behind them. This time though, the room decided not to spin.

"Where to now?" Faith asked, looking around. The X's that Hermione had made earlier had disappeared. She frowned at all of the doors that looked the same.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, three people came out of the doorway to their right. Faith tensed as she swung around to confront them. She relaxed as Ron, Ginny and Luna came sprawling out into the hallway.

Ron was limping. There was a dark substance covering his left thigh. Ginny had an arm wrapped around Luna's waist. She was heavily leaning on her left foot. Out of the three of them Luna was the only one who appeared uninjured.

"Ron," Harry said, rushing over to them. "Ginny – are you guys alright?"

"A little worse for wear but fine," Ron replied. He smiled at them, then faltered when he caught sight of Hermione draped over Neville's shoulder. Ron hobbled over to where they were standing; his face had gotten very pale.

"Is she –" he asked.

"She's fine," Faith replied, "for now at least."

Ron let out a breath that he probably hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I think my ankle's broken," Ginny said. Harry was helping her stand up and the two of them were more than a little unsteady. The red head opened her mouth to say something else but never got the words out.

"There they are!" Bellatrix Lestrange yelled as she sprang out from a doorway across the room. She was followed by two others.

Harry charged through the door nearest to him, practically dragging Ginny with him. Faith grabbed the last firecracker that Ron had given her and fired. One of the Death Eaters dodged and she caught the faint light around Bella that signaled a shield. Hers had been stronger than Lucius' and stayed firm against the onslaught. The Death Eater who had stood at her left shoulder was not so lucky. Instead, he got the brunt of the explosion, flames licking up his robes and mask. He shouted and frantically patted at them.

Faith followed the others through the door and slammed it shut.

"Colloportus!" Harry yelled as Faith scrambled further into the room. The door locked behind her. He was just in time too. There was a loud thud as someone on the other side of the doorway ran into it.

Looking at the new surroundings, Faith realized that they had re-entered the brain room. She glanced warily at the tank. It was almost as if pink mushy things had perked up at their arrival. They practically peered out of the glass at the group. Faith turned away and pressed her lips together. It was quickly becoming apparent that the brain room was not a very good place to be. Not only were there creepy brains, but there were dozens of doors lining the walls. By the footsteps that echoed outside, Faith had a feeling that the Death Eaters knew the layout of the Department of Mysteries much better then they did.

"WE'VE GOT THEM!" shouted a man's voice on the other side of one of the doorways. "THEY'RE HERE!"

"Help me!" Harry ordered, sealing doors around the room. Ron kicked over a table and yelled at Neville to put Hermione behind it. Neville did as Ron asked before joining in with the others. While the DA went about locking doors, Faith took a moment to look for a weapon. Unfortunately, besides tables, chairs and brains – the room was rather empty.

Luna's cry alerted them that the Death Eaters had gotten through. Her body flew across the room and collided with a nearby desk. She didn't move, and Faith turned just in time to see the door Luna had been sealing blow off its hinges. Bellatrix stood with her wand ready in the open frame.

"Get Potter!" Bella shrieked, running through the open door towards Harry. She was followed by at least four other Death Eaters, and Faith could hear others running through the halls and getting closer.

Harry sprinted in the direction of the back of the room, clutching the prophecy to his chest. Bellatrix darted in the direction that Harry was headed. Faith followed, hoping to intercept the woman before she even got close. Ron took action first; a yellow spell shot out of his wand. With a flick of her wrist Bella sent the oncoming spell into the ceiling. Before Ron could fire again, Faith had reached Bella. She grabbed the Death Eater by the back of her robes and yanked. Bella was ungracefully hefted off her feet and flung across the room. She crashed into one of the brain tanks.

A series of spider web thin cracks blossomed across the glass.

The tank fragilely remained whole. One of the brains rammed into the tank, and Bellatrix scrambled out of the way. Its tentacles stuck to the glass.

Ron pointed his wand at the tank, and a brain rose out of the water. He flung it at the nearest Death Eater, who had been busy firing spells at Ginny. She was crouched behind a shelf and exchanged fire with the masked man. The brain smashed into his back, its tentacles wrapping around the human as it made contact. The Death Eater jerked around wildly, unable to reach the brain attached to him. None of his comrades made a move to help.

While most of the room stopped to watch the man scream and thrash, one of the other Death Eaters took the opportunity to fire a jet of purple light at Harry. Harry, who had been watching the flailing man in mute horror, failed to notice the incoming curse. A shield sprang to life - and Faith glanced at Ginny. Wand raised, she looked both determined and mad as hell. She might have been unable to walk, but the girl was still one tough cookie.

Harry snapped back to attention as the shield winked out of existence, Ginny had crumpled to the floor.

Bellatrix grinned from across the room and fired a spell this time at Harry. Harry dodged out of the way and raised his own wand in defense.

Neville stood across the room with Ron, his broken nose clearly causing problems with his spell work. The blood loss and trauma seemed to be finally catching up with the boy. But with what Neville was lacking, Ron was making up for it and adding a whole lot more. His bloodied leg barely slowed him down. He was giving one of the Death Eaters a run for their money, while forcing another one to take cover behind a table.

From out of one of the unsealed doors another Death Eater emerged, barreling straight towards Harry. His robes were singed making Faith believe that he was one of the two who took a firework to the face. Harry was busy trying to fend off Bella's spell work, struggling to keep himself unhurt.

Faith launched herself at the new Death Eater before he could get a shot off at Harry.

She collided with him, making the spell he'd been in the middle of casting go wild. Chunks of ceiling rained down from where the spell had hit a few feet in front of them. Faith raised her fist, intending to smash it into the Death Eater's face, but saw a red light out of the corner of her eye and rolled away instead. She jumped to her feet, intent on regaining her footing, when a second spell collided with her. Whatever she was hit with hurt. The room whirled around her as she was suddenly air born, and the door she smashed into crumpled beneath her.

She skidded through one of the many doors and into a shelf that lay further into the new room. Pieces of wood and artifacts rained down on her.

Fuck that had not felt good.

Faith had a feeling that she had taken a Reducto curse to her chest. Thank God she was a slayer. She propped herself up on her elbows and felt a deep burn in her chest and sides. Yep, she had definitely broken a few ribs. The hit hadn't done anything great for her shoulder either. Not to mention that it hadn't helped the parts of her back that were still full of glass. Whatever healing that had begun had been undone. Bringing her hand up to her shoulder, she lightly probed the wound. Yep, it was bleeding again. Awesome.

The room she found herself in was unlit, and she could just make out walls covered in shelves, various objects piled on them. Groaning, she tried to sit up further. Faith halted as her ribs gave protest and her chest ached.

A shadow blocked the battered doorway.

Fuck, she had really hoped to give her healing ribs another minute before jumping back into the fight.

Faith scrambled back as quickly as she could, and ducked behind a shelf.

The Death Eater's wand lit, causing the room to be flooded in pale light. Faith peaked between two of the racks. Her view was a partially obstructed by what looked like a green horseshoe sitting next to two glass balls with a milky substance swirling around inside. Weird. The Death Eater muttered something to himself and walked further into the room. He must have been upset that she wasn't down for the count. Faith quietly grabbed one of the objects off of the shelf. It looked like a pole or a baton and was about two and a half feet tall with a diameter of about an inch. Her hand itched for something that she could use for a weapon, and this looked as good as anything else.

Crouching by the shelf, she waited for him to walk past her.

Moments later a shoe appeared in her vision. She swung at the ankles that she knew would be attached to the foot. The Death Eater tumbled forward - ankles surely broken by the force of the hit.

Faith got her ass in gear and hopped onto her feet. Her movements were slower than usual, despite the new wave of adrenalin rushed through her body. The Death Eater rolled onto his back and wasted no time in trying to fire a spell at her. This time she recognized the sharp green of the killing curse. She swiftly moved out of the way and charged the hopeless lackey. Faith brought her new weapon down onto the Death Eater's face, and it made a horrible crunch as it smashed into the white mask an blood seeped out – oops, she might have hit him a little too hard.

Faith smiled at the rod in her hand and headed back to the brain room. It looked like her new found weapon was going to be useful.

Harry, Ron and Neville were no longer in the room. Luna, Ginny and Hermione were all lying unconscious. Faith knew that it must have been hard for Ron to leave Hermione and Ginny behind, but they both knew that Harry came first. There was no future without Harry. There were two unconscious Death Eaters strewn across the room as well, and Faith was a bit surprised that the kids had gotten so many. The only movement in the room was a third Death Eater twitching underneath the brain's tentacles.

There were plenty of doors that they might have gone through, but Faith knew exactly where they would end up. In the room with the veil. Faith mentally counted at least eight Death Eaters down over the course of the night. That left for sure four others - and that was if they were lucky. Most likely there were more of the bastards roaming around somewhere. Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing just how many were in the veil room with Harry and Ron.

Fatih found the room quickly, but knew that charging in was a terrible idea. She approached quietly and ducked low to the ground.

Harry and Ron were in the middle of the room, directly in front of the veil. Faith pulled her eyes away from the seemingly innocent object. She couldn't worry about the veil yet. Eight Death Eaters stood in a circle on the steps leading down to the center arena. Bella stood close to Harry and Ron with her back to Faith. She had Neville at wand point.

"Stay right where you are girlie," one of the Death Eaters growled out from across the room. Shit, Faith had hoped no one would notice her entrance. "Or the pudgy one gets it."

Bella turned her head Faith's way and Ron sprang forward.

He yanked hard at Neville, who was wrenched out from Bella's arms. Bellatrix quickly turned back around. Her hair had fallen over one eye and had somehow managed to become even more messy. It looked as if she'd stuck a finger into an electrical socket.

"Get them!" she yelled as she fired a killing curse at Neville. It missed him by inches. Ron fired a blue curse back at Bella. She disappeared in a crack and reappeared on the other side of the stadium. Fucking Apparition.

More cracks from people Apparating in made Faith snap to attention. Order members - ones she recognized and some that she didn't - materialized throughout the room. Faith sprinted down the stair well with her new weapon in hand, wanting to get back into the action. She knew that those Apparating weren't foes, and could place her concentration elsewhere. Her intended target was a Death Eater only thirty or so feet further down the stairs. He fired spells at Harry, Ron and Neville, who dodged and cast shields. Neville had taken partial shelter on the side of the veil.

Bella had already gotten back into the fray and had started fighting an Order member with brightly colored hair.

There was another crack and a wizard appeared on the other side of Faith's intended target. The Death Eater raised his wand to the back of the unknown Order member, and Faith would bet anything that there was a smile on the Death Eater's face. Before he could fire off a spell at the man, Faith used her momentum to topple the bad guy over. She swung her new rod at his chest. There was a crunch as the rod smashed into his ribs and the Death Eater passed out.

Hearing the noise, the Order member in front of her turned. He had a surprised look on his face and Faith struggled with her memory. Had she once known him? No, she had never met the man. For a moment Faith thought he was going to fire a spell at her, but his eyes darted over the now incapacitated Death Eater. She smiled at him. He raised an eyebrow and smiled back.

Fuck, he was cute for an old guy.

"Ron!" Harry's voice echoed out from the center of the pit. Faith's head whipped around at the hoarse shout. She wasn't sure what she expected to see, but felt her heart stutter at the view. Ron had collapsed onto the floor and Neville hovered nervously by his side. Harry stood out in front of them, hurdling curses at a Death Eater through clenched teeth. Fear rose up in her chest and she rushed down the steps.

Ron had to be alright. He needed to be alright.

She couldn't do this alone.

She leapt from stair to stair, faster and more gracefully than should have been possible. From behind her, she could hear someone following and making a hell of a lot more noise than she was. As she reached the final step, she glanced over her should to see that it was the cutie from before.

Faith turned back to Ron and slowed her movements as she got closer.

Neville moved over as she came to a stop next to Ron's body. He desperately tried to fire curses back at a different Death Eater, but was having a hard time of it. Between Hermione's wand and his broken nose, he seemed to get one spell out of four to actually work.

Faith leaned in close to the unconscious red head, but couldn't see any new wounds on his body. Dropping the pole, she pressed her fingers to his neck. A faint pulse thumped under her fingers.

Thank God.

Ron was still alive.

Looking up, she felt relieved to see that the man had taken over Neville's fight with the Death Eater and seemed to be doing a much better job at it. Neville watched her.

"Is he okay?" he asked. "He sabed my life."

"Alive," Faith replied, brushing her hands on her legs and getting to her feet. "Keep him safe, okay?"

Neville nodded.

The request might as well be pointless. Neville was hardly in any shape to fight. However, Faith felt better knowing that someone was looking out for Ron when she couldn't be.

"You need to get out of here now!" Harry half-shouted, half-pleaded with the man who now stood next to him.

The man barked out a laugh in return.

"Harry," he replied. "Shouldn't that be my line as I am older and your Godfather? _I _should be the one insisting that _you _should get to safety."

So, this was Harry's Godfather Sirius. No one had told her that he was so fucking hot.

Harry fired a spell from his wand at a Death Eater before turning back to Sirius.

"No! It's not safe, you need to leave!" Harry sounded almost panicked. "You need go now!"

Sirius turned away from the crazy bitch he'd been exchanging curses with and frowned.

It happened almost instantly.

Bella shot a curse straight for Sirius.

Faith dashed forward, making her legs move as fast as they could. She barreled into the man and they both landed hard on the stone floor. Fragments of glass, on her chest this time, dug deeper into her skin. Faith sprawled out on his back, taking a second to catch her breath. Harry turned, horror written on his face. He fired at Bella, who had already shrunk back into the shadows.

"Sirius!" Harry called, running the few feet to where Sirius was still sprawled out under Faith.

Faith rolled off of him and to her feet.

"That's the second time tonight that you've saved me," he smiled, still sprawled on the ground.

She grinned back. Faith offered her hand to him and he grabbed it, jumping back up onto his feet.

"Harry?" Sirius asked, looking his godson in the eyes. "What are you still doing here? Take Neville and the prophecy and run."

"Not without you!" Harry replied, this time literally reaching out as if to grab him. "Please!"

Faith took a moment to look at Ron. She didn't want to leave him, but it seemed that now that he was down, the Death Eaters weren't paying him much attention. She took a deep breath and assured herself that he would be fine. They had made a pact before that Harry came first. And Harry wasn't going to leave without Sirius, that much clear.

Curses were still being shot all around them, but now that the Order had arrived, the odds where looking better for the good guys. It was time to leave. Bending down, Faith quickly snatched back up her weapon. She wished that Ron was still awake. He knew better than she what was supposed to be accomplished tonight. Faith tried to mentally tick off all their goals in her head. Harry needed to know about the prophecy. . . .check. Death Eaters out in the open. . . .check. Sirius saved. . . .check. So why was she feeling like she was missing a few things?

Faith grabbed Sirius' arm and pulled him in the direction of the exit.

"We'll cover them from behind while they make their escape," she said to the man. "Harry, go. We'll follow."

Harry looked at her and nodded, handing the life of his Godfather over to her.

They ran as fast as they could manage up the stairs, dodging stray spells and rubble. Harry led the way, clutching the prophecy to his chest and glancing over his shoulder to Sirius whenever he was able. Neville followed clumsily behind him, no where near as nimble as Harry.

"I've always liked a girl who knew what she wanted," Sirius said as he was pulled along. As serious as the situation was, Faith felt a grin tug at her mouth. God, no wonder Harry had loved his Godfather so much. The guy was hot and had a kicking sense of humor. Once she was sure he wouldn't argue with their plan, she let go of his arm.

They stumbled further up the steps, and Faith could see a doorway ahead of them.

"Dumbledore!" Neville shouted suddenly, pointing out the elderly wizard who had just seemed to appear on the scene. The great wizard had Apparated in on the other side of the room. He stood in the brain doorway that Faith had vacated only moments before. This was Faith's second time ever seeing the man and he commanded every eye in the room. The Death Eater nearest to the Headmaster even tried to run away, but made it only a few steps. Dumbledore hardly even waved his wand before the man slumped unconscious.

Someone yelled right next to her and Faith turned just in time to see Neville collide into Harry. Both of them went crashing into the steps, Harry twisting beneath Neville's dead weight. The prophecy came loose and smashed.

Harry struggled to get back to his feet, but Neville remained still on the concrete steps. Even from where Faith was standing she could see the blood begin to saturate Neville's gray sweater. In seconds it had started to dribble onto the ground around him.

It looked bad.

"What the hell?" Faith yelled to no one in particular. She dropped to her knees and pulled up the boy's shirt.

Oh yeah, it was definitely bad. His side looked like it had lost a fight with a meat grinder. Chunks of flesh were missing and Faith was pretty sure she could see some bits of bone.

"He was hit with something. . . . Dark purple, but I don't know what it was," Harry answered.

"Shit," Sirius muttered from above. He hovered at her shoulder. "He needs to get to the hospital wing, now."

She reached into her pocked and pulled out her shrunken cloak.

"Unshrink it!" she yelled, tossing it to Harry. The boy looked up from his hurt friend and caught the small bit of cloth.

He waved his wand and threw the full size cloak back at her.

Faith quickly tore a strip off of the bottom and wadded it up, putting pressure against Neville's side. She felt as if she were trying to heal a bullet wound with a band aid.

"He's in no shape to Apparate," Sirius said, his voice low and solemn. "But we can use the Floo in the entry way."

Faith nodded, tearing off another long strip. Fashioning a makeshift bandage, she hefted Neville over her unhurt shoulder in a fireman's carry. She wasn't sure if it would strain his wound or not, but the kid had to be moved, and quickly. The scene felt eerily similar as she took a few steps forward. She crossed her fingers that Neville's luck would hold out again.

"Let's go," she said, balancing Neville and carrying her weapon with the same hand. She almost left it behind, but better safe then sorry.

Harry led the way and Sirius pulled up the rear.

The journey back through the department flew by. The correct doors seemed to appear as if they'd been listening to Harry, and they hustled through the rooms quickly and without incident. It was eerily quiet, and their heavy breathing and footsteps were like the clangs of a bell.

Faith rushed out of the elevators first, heading in the direction of the Floo fireplaces. Having passed them on the way in, she hurried to get to them. Every minute counted. In the elevator her back had started to feel warm and wet. She knew that the large amount of blood was not coming from her. They were running out of time.

Placing Neville in the fireplace as gently as she could, she turned to look for the Floo powder. Neville lay pale and unmoving where she'd placed him. Sirius and Harry trailed behind her, coming up quickly. The fireplace mantel was bare, and she resisted the urge to pull out her hair. Shit, where the fuck was the powder?

Sirius must have noticed her dilemma, because he reached around the front desk and grabbed a silver jar. Figures that they would have it someplace 'secure' and not where it was the most convenient. He ran over with the Floo powder in hand.

"Let me," Sirius said, sliding to a halt. "The hospital wing Floo network is password activated."

Sirius flung the powder into the fireplace. The green flames rose in a cool wave. Faith stepped back and away, giving him room. Harry came up from behind to stand next to her. His breath came out in almost frantic pants.

"Hogwarts, Infirmary," Sirius stated clearly. "Gillyweed."

Sirius pulled his head out, leaving Neville alone in the fireplace. As he disappeared, Faith breathed a sigh of relief. She could hear Harry behind her, could feel the relief that was practically rolling off of him in waves. Maybe-

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light struck Sirius and his body crumpled.


	12. Having Faith

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: This chapter contains quotes from **_**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,**_** pages 812 - 816. **

As always, I need to thank my two wonderful Betas fuu43 and angrymonkey.

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Mein Teil

Chapter 11: Having Faith

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The world slowed in front of Faith's eyes as Sirius collapsed to the ground. A loud clatter filled the room as the Floo powder jar smashed onto the stone beside him. The green dust billowed across the floor.

"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed, rushing towards his Godfather .

Faith turned around and intercepted Harry with her right arm. The kid struggled against her as she dove to the ground, pulling him underneath her. Harry let out a sharp hiss as the wind was knocked out of him. Faith's head landed hard on his chest, no doubt causing him pain. Above, a red spell smashed into the back of the fireplace. A loud crack filled the air as parts of the fireplace crumpled.

"Get off of me!" Harry yelled, struggling against her before going completely still as harsh laughter filled the room. It was a high and unnatural sound that Faith would have recognized anywhere. It permeated the dungeons and battlefields that she had graced over the years, like the ambience music in movies.

Harry strained his neck to see where it was coming from.

"Bellatrix," he whispered venomously. Faith could feel the vibration of his words as he spoke through clenched teeth. Still sprawled over him, she watched his eyes darken from loss to hate.

"Poor little baby Harry," Bellatrix crooned. Footsteps echoed across the stone floor, her heels clicking against the marble as she came closer to where they lay in a heap of arms and legs. Faith slowly crawled up into a crouch, putting herself in front of Harry. She picked up the metal rod that had clattered to the floor moments before. Unfortunately, what she really needed was her gun back, trying to fight a Death Eater with a metal pole was like trying to kill a lion with a toothpick. What she would have given have her gun resting snugly at the small of her back. Scratch that, she needed a rocket launcher - the gun had barely made a difference when fighting Malfoy.

Bella emerged from behind the giant statue in the middle of the room. Robes disheveled, her hair looked as if she'd stuck a finger in a light socket. Faith watched the witch's lips curve into a smile that screamed malice and insanity. Her wand was out and pointed at them. Harry tried to shove Faith aside, but Faith used her free arm to keep him behind her.

"Grab some Floo powder and go," Faith ordered him, not turning her gaze from Bella's moving form. Hopefully the fine green powder hadn't scattered so much that there wasn't enough for one use.

"Like hell I will," Harry replied, stepping to the side and out of Faith's reach. From the corner of Faith's eye, she could see him bring up his wand. Faith resisted snorting, Harry was never good at taking orders.

Bella laughed at his actions.

"Avenging my dear cousin are you now?" she shrieked. "How noble!"

Bella flicked her wrist to the left, sending a bright blue spell in their direction. Faith pushed Harry toward the reception desk and dove after him. He barely had time to react as he slid across the room. The blue light sailed just over her head as she hit the ground.

Fucking wizards and their fucking spells.

"Reducto!" Harry cried from where he had landed. Faith didn't pay attention to Bella's reaction, but knew that the witch was more than talented enough to hold her own against a fifth year student. Instead, Faith scurried to her feet and dashed to where Harry had already taken cover behind a desk. The desk wasn't going to do them a whole lot of good, but it was better than nothing.

"Not good enough Harry!" Bella called, laughter ccontinuing. "And here I had thought that you loved your Godfather. Thought that you finally had found a replacement for your dear dead daddy! Oh my! Poor Harry, it looks like some sort of pattern has emerged! Or perhaps a curse? Or maybe you just get your kicks from watching those around you drop like flies!? Some sort of perverse fantasy!?"

Harry moved out from behind the desk in a flash.

"Crucio!" he hollered.

Faith smiled as Bella screamed. Leaving her position, Faith tried to close the distance between the desk and writhing witch; the metal rod in her hand as she ran. If Faith could just get there fast enough, she could kill the bitch before she had a chance to recover.

Faith pushed her tired muscles to the limit, but as she neared the woman, she knew she wouldn't be quick enough. Bella was back on her feet in mere seconds. The maniacal yet serene smile that had graced her face moments before was gone. Gone was the taunting bitch. For the first time tonight Bella looked mad as hell. Faith raised the metal rod hoping that she wasn't too late. Bella was faster. Her red spell shot from her wand and smashed into Faith's chest. She soared across the room and hit the marble floor hard.

Faith hurt.

Everything hurt. Noises blended together in a thundering clash that had her ears ringing and the world swirled and melted in front of her. She instinctively rolled over onto all fours. Coughs racked her body, the pain increasing with every movement. A metallic tasting liquid that could only be blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Caught up in her own pain, she was thankful that no other spells were cast in her direction. Bellatrix had probably thought that the spell was enough to take her out of the count for good. Firmly planting her hands on the floor, Faith pressed herself up onto her knees. Her vision had cleared enough that she could see that Harry had taken cover behind the statue that Bella had been hiding behind moments before. He was laughing. It was a desperate sound that made the buzz in Faith's ears clear.

Bella's voice rang out above Harry's laughter, she seemed to be yelling at nobody. "I TRIED - DO NOT PUNISH ME!"

Faith struggled to her find her feet, but remained wobbly and on her knees.

"Don't waste your breath!" Harry cried back in a harsh voice, his face was flushed and Faith was fairly certain he was hyperventilating. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" the voice froze Faith like a deer in headlights. It was cold and high and so familiar it made her stomach roll.

Voldemort.

Her vision came into sharp focus and the sound of her accelerating heartbeat drowned out the outside world. He appeared between Harry and Faith, his back to her. The dark robes and slick skull were images out of many a nightmare she'd had. Across the room she could see the utter horror on Harry's face. His mouth opened and his eyes widened in panic.

As Voldemort spoke Faith concentrated on getting back up to her feet. She couldn't leave Harry to fight this monster alone. Faith prayed that his monologue would give her the few moments she needed to gather her strength and attack. If she could catch him off guard, then she could get him.

Faith took a breath as deep as her ribs would allow and staggered up to her feet. Pausing until the world stopped its sudden spinning, she sprinted forward. Moments after she started moving his head turned toward her and with a flick of his wrist she flew past him and into the statue that Harry stood next to. A loud crack sounded as she smashed into the goblin. Her body practically bounced off of the statue and she landed next to Harry.

_Fuck_ was the only thought that Faith could clear her head enough to think.

Every inch of her body burned.

Thinking hurt. Breathing hurt.

It was dark.

Were her eyes even closed?

Faith was vaguely aware that there was someone next to her. She could feel a hand on her shoulder and she heard a voice that sounded as if it were from the other end of a long tunnel. She struggled to lift the eyelids that she didn't remember closing, and fought against her own sluggish body. Colors swirled until a face came into focus above her. Harry's hair was a mess and his glasses had a crack through one of the lenses. Flakes of blood and grime covered his skin. His face slackened in a bit of relief as he let out a breath. He gave her a weak smile before turning his attention to the center of the room.

It quickly became apparent to her that they were in a battle zone. Perhaps it was the loud explosions that tipped her off, or the floor shaking underneath her? Or maybe it was the chunk of plaster that just fell on her head? Either way, all of these were good indicators that the reinforcements had finally arrived.

Positioning her weight onto her arms, she tried to get back up and into the action. Her right arm gave out first sending her nose into the floor. Fuck, just what she needed. The heat of the battle and here she was practically useless, and now her nose was bleeding. Thank God Buffy wasn't here or she would never hear the end of it. Instead, Faith settled on turning her head in the direction Harry was looking. She became a little sour as she noticed a large headless statue standing before them, shielding them from the fight taking place. After all, she was a slayer and should be the one protecting, no being protected by an animated object.

Voldemort was facing them, throwing fire at a man in blue robes.

"Dumbledore," Faith whispered, realizing just who it was Voldemort was fighting. She didn't want to admit it, but relief washed over her in waves. Spells moved almost too quickly for Faith to see as objects were transfigured and animated around her. Bits of stone, and dust littered the air around them while spells shot overhead like rogue comets.

It all suddenly stopped as a pool of water enveloped Voldemort. Beneath the water his body appeared even more freakishly snakelike. He was motionless as the water rippled around him before seeming to disappear into thin air. Faith blinked, wondering if somehow she'd missed his escape as the water rained back into the fountain that Dumbledore had taken it from.

"Stay where you are, Harry!" Dumbledore called as Harry took a few crouched steps toward the guarding statue. She did her best to crawl after him, pulling herself weakly across the floor a few feet.

The entire room was in shambles.

The once tall statue was in pieces. Chunks of the ceiling were missing and there were scorch marks marring the floor and walls.

Faith watched Dumbledore scan the room, clearly looking for any sign of Voldemort. Her heavy breathing filled Faith's ears in the otherwise still room. Across the room she could just make out the sound of Bellatrix's whimpering.

Harry made an odd jerking motion, and Faith's ears burned at the scream that suddenly came from him. It was a raw sound. One that Faith had only heard several times in her lifetime. And as Harry flailed around on the floor, Faith hardly doubted for a second that he was dying. Almost roughly, someone bumped into her as they came to Harry's side. Faith glanced up at Dumbledore, who had pushed passed her and knelt next to the young Gryffindor. Dumbledore called out Harry's name, but it was barely audible over his screams.

"_Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . ." _Harry's screams ended and a high pitched voice spoke, one that Faith knew too well. "_If death is nothing, Dumbledore, then kill the boy. . . ."_

Harry stilled.

She would have thought he was dead if not for the slight rising and falling of his chest.

Faith let out a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding and kept her eyes on Harry. He looked even more like shit then he had before. Sweat caked his forehead and his scar stood out sharply against his pale skin, an angry slash for all to see. The trademark glasses that he always wore were no longer on his face. From the corner of her eye, she could see them laying near the broken statue to her right. Faith let her head rest against Harry's side, immensely happy that he was alive.

"How are you feeling miss?" Dumbledore's voice was quiet.

"Five by five," she faintly replied. Harry shifted beside, a slow motion that seemed stilted and pained. He let out a low moan, a sure sign that he was coming to.

Cracks of Apparition filled the air. Fucking wizards, she really didn't want to deal with any more right now. Hell, she didn't think that she'd be able to even if she tried. Slowly, her head turned to see who had appeared in the ruined hall. They weren't in Death Eater garb, and that alone lifted her spirits. The Aurors must have finally arrived. She had only seen their traditional robes a few times. Once Voldemort had come into power, everything had changed - especially everything dealing with law enforcement.

Faith sighed, thinking to herself that it sure as hell had taken them long enough. Leave it to the cops to show up after all the action had ended.

Dumbledore faced the newcomers, his face looking lined and serious. Unfortunately, she couldn't have gotten up even if she'd wanted to. And considering that she was pretty fucking sure that she wasn't supposed to be there, she could already taste the trouble. While these Aurors were a huge improvement over the black robed jackasses that she was used too, she really didn't want to be caught by them. Dumbledore was a smart dude - he must have realized that she didn't belong. But she'd learned long ago through stories that Dumbledore sometimes behaved strangely. Could she really trust him to get her out of this mess?

At the moment, it didn't look like she had much choice.

Faith turned her attention to the man who seemed to be the leader. Well, she assumed that he must be the leader. He talked a lot….though it was more complaining and whining then actually talking. She hadn't actually seen a picture of Fudge, but Ron had rambled on about how useless the man was when she'd seen him last month. This guy seemed to fit the red head's definition of 'Inept Minister of Magic.'

Fudge's main concern seemed to be the state of the building. Dumbledore hardly paid the man any notice as he walked around the room, his eyes stopping at one thing or another. His steps slowed as he approached where Sirius laid. He easily knelt down, making him seem much younger then the color of his hair indicated. Considering that she had just watched him fight an evil wizard using awesome magic that she'd never seen before, the fact that he could kneel shouldn't surprise her. He gently laid a hand on Sirius' forehead, remaining still for a few moments. Fudge didn't seem to notice any of this, he was still complaining and had started gesticulating wildly with his hands.

Dumbledore muttered a few words she couldn't hear to his fallen comrade before continuing around the room. He stopped once again at Faith's makeshift weapon. Bending down, he picked it up. He slowly made his way back to Harry and Faith, stepping between pieces of rubble.

"We can finish this discussion after I send Harry and his classmate back to Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied, interrupting the ranting Minister with a quiet voice that cut like a whip.

Fudge whirled, only now seeing Harry and Faith.

"Potter - What ……What is he doing here?" Fudge sputtered.

Dumbledore knelt down to where Faith had propped herself up on her elbows. Harry had managed to sit up, his glasses once more perched on his face.

"You might want to take this with you," he said, handing Faith the pole. Now, that he was closer, she noticed that his sleeves where so long that he gripped the pole through the fabric. She took it, confused, but still smart enough to know that now simply wasn't the time. Dumbledore quickly picked up a small chunk of plaster from the floor.

"Portus," he said. The rubble glowed blue for a second in his hand before returning normal. Dumbledore discretely handed the plaster to Faith with a wink. She had a feeling that his wink meant that he wanted no one else to see it. Fudge could be heard sputtering nonsense about in the background, so she was pretty sure he didn't notice anything.

"Take this," Dumbledore said gesturing to the spare piece of plaster. "It will get you back to Hogwarts." Faith clutched the rubble tightly in her hand, not quite sure what his scheme was, but following along none the less. "Hold on to her, Harry. I will see you both in half an hour."

Harry grabbed Faith's left arm in a tight grip.

Dumbledore turned back towards Fudge and began to speak, his voice cutting out quickly as they whirled away.

Faith absolutely hated traveling by portkey. Even though she had been sitting on the ground before she took hold, she still managed to land hard on her ass.

"Fuck!" she shouted as her broken ribs jostled about inside of her. Faith groaned and laid her back onto the ground. Her eyes slid close. The stone floor was hard and cold against her skin. It felt good to be able to just lay there. She let the plaster roll out of her hand with a soft clunk. She didn't bother to pick it back up.

Harry had let go of her arm as soon as they had landed but she could still feel his presence near her. After a few moments she heard movement and knew immediately that the boy had moved away.

Faith kept her eyes closed. The weight of failure slowly sank into her chest. She couldn't bring herself to look at the teenager who she could hear slowly moving around the room. Would he even speak to her again? And what about Ron? Harry had put so much trust in the two of them and they had failed miserably. There hadn't been a whole lot of people in her life that trusted her. Ron, Harry, Giles and Mayor Wilkins. That was it. Faith wasn't ready for her mere list of four to change to three.

Should she say something? Then again, what could she possibly say? Fucking-Ay! She sucked at this sentimental bullshit and hated how the entire situation could have- no-should have been avoided.

Faith opened her eyes and let her head fall to the side. Harry stood in front of the window. Although she couldn't see his face, there was no doubt that his expression was one of misery. She watched him for awhile as he stared at the predawn sky. The boy barely moved in the time he stood there.

"Harry. . . .I'm -" Faith never finished her sentence, her body erupting in a sudden coughing fit. She turned over to keep from choking on her own tongue.

"What is - Ah Mr. Potter," a voice said from somewhere within the room. Faith quickly got to her feet before swaying and almost tumbling back down again. She braced herself against the arm of a chair as she scanned the room for the unknown voice. "And who do we have here? I do not think we've been introduced before. I'm Phineas Nigellus Black, former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And who might you be?"

"Uh," Faith said rather ungracefully as she looked at the portrait before her. Oh, she knew that they could talk, but it always unnerved her a bit to hear it. ". . . . Lara Croft."

Faith pointed to the blood splattered name tag that was still attached to her shirt.

The portrait glanced between her and Harry, seemingly trying to make his mind up about something. Faith never quite understood these talking pictures. Could they actually think complex thoughts or were they more like a recording of some kind? Fucking creepy if you asked her.

Phineas' voice must have drawn Harry out of the daze he was in. He ran a hand shakily through his hair. More of the portraits seemed to be coming awake now. They asked questions, their voices overlapping as more woke up. Harry and Faith remained quiet. The boy shifted, seemingly not liking that the portraits had taken notice of him.

Faith watched as Harry went to the door and tried to open it. Locked or magicked shut, the door refused to budge. The handle clanked and groaned as he tried to force the door open by sheer strength alone.

"Dumbledore probably wants to talk to us before he lets us go," Faith felt like she was stating the obvious. Harry barely gave her a glance in return.

"Dumbledore?" said one of the other portraits. "He's coming back? It's about bloody time. It's been so boring since he's been gone."

Questions began to pour out about Dumbledore then, but she paid them no mind. Instead she focused on Harry who stood with his back against the door and stared at his feet below. He looked like shit, and had leaned forward slightly to rest his head on the door. Cut up and covered in both his own and others blood, his clothing was dirty and torn. But in all honesty, his messy looks were nothing in comparison to the look of devastation that marred his face. His misery rolled off of him in heavy waves, crashing against her and forcing her to admit repeatedly to herself that she had failed. Faith knew that look, had seen it in Ron after Hermione died. At that time, there was nothing she could have said or done to ease Ron's hurt. A pit settled in her stomach. This time wouldn't be any different. Whatever words she said to Harry would just sound hollow and forced to him. Despite that, Faith owed him an explanation, she had to try.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said while she had the confidence. "I tried, but I fucked it up."

Harry didn't look up from his shoes. He didn't even give any acknowledgement that he had heard her. There was nothing else that she could say, so she shifted her weight and examined the room around her.

Dumbledore's office was something else. Shelves were full of books, random Muggle things, jars containing stuff that Faith couldn't make out, and objects that made Faith think of Da Vinci's invention sketches.

A whooshing from the fireplace grabbed her attention. The flames sparked green as Dumbledore strolled through. He looked much older than he had an hour ago while fighting Voldemort. Wrinkles stood sharply out from his pale face and dark circles had formed underneath his eyes. He walked slowly into the room. Paintings throughout the room called out greetings to the Headmaster as he made his way past them.

"Thank you," was all that he replied back, giving them a quick glance as he walked. Faith silently watched as he made his way past her to a perch in the middle of the room. From out of his robes, he pulled out what looked like a baby chick and placed it in a tray of ashes that hung below.

Faith didn't get where the bird had come from, but she had stopped questioning the insanity of wizards long ago.

Harry stayed where he was and watched as Dumbledore moved back to his desk.

Dumbledore glanced between the two of them before letting out a sigh and taking a seat. His eyes lingered on Faith.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I'm sorry but I don't know much about slayer healing Ms.-"

Faith wanted to laugh at how the word slayer rolled off of his tongue. It was so natural, like there was no doubt in his mind of what she was. It wasn't much of a surprise that he had figured it out though. After all, it was a very logical conclusion considering she didn't have a wand, and he knew that someone from the Watcher's Council was involved.

It took a moment for Faith to realize that he was waiting for her to provide a name.

"Croft," she replied. "Lara Croft."

"Madam Pomfrey should be able to take care of those wounds for you," he answered with a slight nod. "The other students are with her right now. All of them should make a full recovery." The last sentence was directed more at Harry than her.

Faith nodded. She thought about rejecting the offer but decided against it. Her slayer healing would still take a week or so and she would be sore as hell. Might as well take the help while it was offered. Plus, if she walked into the Council building looking like she did now, Giles would pitch a fit.

"Now Ms. Croft I would like to speak to you before the night, or rather morning is over, however Harry and I need to have a much overdue conversation," Dumbledore said in a soft but firm voice. "I trust that you will still be here in a few more hours?"

He phrased it as a question but there was no questioning tone in his voice. It was clearly an order. Faith nodded again. It was better to speak to him here and now instead of having him try to track her down at the Council headquarters. And Faith had no doubt that he would do it if she ran away tonight. Besides, Faith did want to speak with Ron before she had to leave. No doubt the poor kid would probably take the failure even harder. She took another glance at Harry. He was watching Dumbledore with blank eyes. After everything that had happened in the previous month, there was a good chance that the conversation between Harry and Ron was not going to be pleasant.

"I'm sorry my dear, but you do not look fit enough walk to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said as he walked back to the fireplace. "Have you ever Flooed before?"

"Yeah."

Faith let go of the back of the chair she had been using for support; trying not to take offense at his statement that she looked like shit. She took one step and stumbled. Damn it, she could at least walk to the fucking fireplace. Thank God Dumbledore remained quiet, she probably would have yelled at anyone who offered to help. Instead, he tossed Floo powder into the fireplace and said the password and destination. She resisted rolling her eyes; it wasn't like she was considering Flooing to another destination or anything.

The hospital wing was a scene of almost chaos. All of the students that had traveled to the Department were amongst the beds. Considering at least three of the patients had substantial injuries, it appeared that Pomfrey had had to enlist some of the other Order members for help. Faith took a brief look at them and quickly realized that she didn't recognize a single one out of the four that were helping the healer. Two of the members hovered at Hermione's side. One was rubbing some sort of paste onto her neck while the other held the jar. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; the guy holding the jar could probably find something more productive to do. Another member was wrapping Ginny's foot in what looked like gauze. Pomfrey was currently casting spells over Neville with the last of the four Order members by her side. Pausing after her spell finished, she barked an order to a man with brown hair to go check on Ron.

Faith wasn't sure if she should say something to call attention to the fact that she was there or not. Instead, she settled for hobbling her way to an empty bed and taking a seat. It was a few minutes before someone noticed that she was there. As the man left Ron's side to return to Pomfrey, his eyes flickered to her and he stumbled. He whispered to the nurse and her sharp eyes picked Faith out quickly. She shooed the young man in her direction. Wonderful.

She smiled weakly at him as he approached.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. If he was curious about who she was he didn't ask, and for that she was grateful. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Are there any serious injuries?"

He waved his wand to perform some kind of spell but Faith stopped him by gently grabbing his wrist.

"Don't worry about me just yet," she replied. "Fix up the kids first."

He smiled in thanks and practically ran back over to Pomfrey.

Faith leaned back against the wall and watched the healer work. Other people came in and out of the room. She saw Snape deliver potions before disappearing. A women with red hair Flooed in practically frantic. One look at her and Faith could only guess that she was Ron and Ginny's mother. No one paid the slayer much attention, which suited Faith just fine. She let her mind wander to the conversation that she had to have with Dumbledore in the next couple hours.

Faith was worried. From everything that she had heard about the man he was sharp as a tack and could easily read between the lines. Faith had never been good at either.

She couldn't help thinking that she was fucked.

What she really needed to do was talk to Giles.

"And what's your name dear?" Faith's head shot up at the question. Madam Pomfrey stood next to her, clearly tired but still committed to helping. Everyone else must have been stabilized.

"Lara," she answered.

Faith remained still as Pomfrey ran her wand up and down Faith's body. Frowning and muttering to herself the entire time. Faith fidgeted. She was suddenly grateful that the necklace with the glamour spell was still around her neck. The last thing that she needed was the woman to recognize her. While she didn't think that it would affect the taste of any of the potions that would be shoved down her throat in the next hour or so, there was no need to take chances. Faith distinctively remembered Ron telling her that Pomfrey seemed to take joy in feeding nasty potions to students that managed to get on her bad side.

"I'm surprised that you were able to even walk on your own," the witch finally said with a tsk. "Six broken ribs, a tear in your left lung, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, not to mention that multitude of small half healed wounds that still have shards of glass embedded in them. You are a very lucky girl to not be dead."

"Lucky, yep that's me," Faith replied dryly.

For over an hour Pomfrey muttered over Faith and fed her potions. None of them tasted good. However, the most painful part was the removal of the glass; she was so not going to go rolling through shards of glass again anytime soon. Her torso was now wrapped in gauze. Faith wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to do. After all, hadn't the nurse fixed her up so why does she need the bandages? Pomfrey had practically demanded that she take off the glamour necklace while the nurse had been wrapping her up. But that was one fight that Faith was not going to lose. After plenty of forceful words on both their parts, Pomfrey had given up with an angry huff and had gone back to work.

Faith's awesome pants and sweater had been scorgified and transfigured into the standard infirmary wear. She wondered if she'd be able to get them fixed later. A kick ass outfit like that was hard to find.

It had to be almost breakfast by the time a very tired Harry Potter and the Headmaster walked into the infirmary. The sun was just breaking through the windows. Harry rushed over to Ginny's side, the girl had only woken minutes before, she was the only one besides Faith who was conscious. Madam Pomfrey made her way over to Harry. After only being near him a few moments, the healer started clucking her tongue and ordering Harry into a bed so she could check his status. Grudgingly, he crawled into the open bed next to Ginny. The Headmaster smiled at the red headed girl and stopped to assure her that everything was okay before lowering his head to talk to the Pomfrey. After their short conversation he made his way over to Faith.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, then continued before Faith could respond. She seemed to be getting that a lot tonight. "Poppy said that you healed up well but should be sore and off of your feet for a few more days."

"I'll be fine," Faith replied.

"That's good to hear," Dumbledore said. "Madam Pomfrey was kind enough to excuse you for a few hours as long as there isn't much walking involved. I told her that we'd Floo to my office. I hope that is reasonable. I assumed that we would both want as much privacy as possible for this conversation."

She nodded.

Faith went first and was followed quickly by Dumbledore. His office was in shambles. All of the nick-knacks that she had noticed earlier were broken with pieces strung about the room. Various pieces of furniture had scorch marks on them. Thankfully though, the couch was still in one piece. Harry must have really gone off on the guy.

She limped as quickly as she could to the couch. Sitting down felt better, but what she really wanted to do was lay down on this sucker. Somehow though, that just seemed plain rude. Unfortunately, good first impressions had never been her forte. Faith decided that she should focus on not completely fucking this up.

"Lemon drop?" the elderly man offered her. Faith didn't really want one, but in the name of not fucking the meeting up, she nodded anyway. One of the candies, levitated its way over to her as he plopped one into his own mouth and took a seat. She tentatively sucked on the candy. "I must say Ms. Croft, your arrival was a very surprising development in the war against Voldemort. The Council has been very hesitant to intervene in wizarding affairs for some time now."

Faith nodded and wondered how Giles would handle this situation. The man knew how to rub the head honchos the right way. The lemon drop that she was sucking on slide down her throat at her movements and Faith coughed and heaved painfully. Okay, so Giles would probably _not _choke on the candy. He was going to be so pissed at her when she got back.

"Are you -" Dumbledore started.

"Fine," she wheezed out once it was dislodged. Faith bit into the candy, chewing it rather loudly. She was not going to make that mistake again.

Dumbledore continued once she had finished.

"The Ministry is unaware of your involvement and I for one would like to keep it that way," Dumbledore picked up from where he had left off. "I have a feeling that they might overreact to this situation if it came to light. They were lead to believe that Harry was with another student when Voldemort attacked. While the Ministry might be fooled, I do not think that we will be so lucky when it comes to Voldemort. While the other students will be more like meddling flies to him, you will probably be something else. The fact alone that you were able to walk away from a fight that would have surely killed anyone else will be enough to peak his interests. He will be adamantly searching for any information that he can gather on you."

Faith nodded. He could search all he wanted too, the truth wouldn't come easily.

"I have to say, it is rather exciting to be working with a slayer again," Dumbledore beamed. "I had the privilege of being one of the last wizards to fight along side the Slayer in battle during World War II."

"Yeah," Faith replied, barely able to contain herself from asking questions. Past slayers were not something that she had heard about often, unless it was pertaining to Buffy. "I bet that fight was something awesome."

After watching Dumbledore fight Voldemort, she could just image the damage that the guy could do in his prime. And then, to have one of her girls by his side - the team would have kicked some major ass.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Dumbledore quietly answered before changing the subject. "She was rather disagreeable; you however seem to have a much more pleasant deposition."

Faith snorted. That was certainly something that she had never been told before. After all, she wasn't known for being the good slayer.

"Does Mr. Giles know you are here?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," Faith replied quickly. "At the moment, I'm on my own."

It wasn't technically a lie. Giles knew that she was going to fight in the war against Voldemort. He just didn't know any of the battle plans. Hell, there was a good chance that Giles had already pieced together a crap ton more than Faith wanted him too. She wouldn't be surprised if when she got back, the first thing Giles did was explain how he figured everything out and lecture her on how stupid her and Ron's plan was. More things for her to look forward to. Splendid.

"Look, we both know that Voldemort needs to be stopped," Faith said trying to be diplomatic. "And I'm here to help out."

There was a knock on the door before Dumbledore had a chance to reply to her. He motioned with his hand and the door opened. The familiar figure of Snape came into the room followed by a blond boy. She recognized him right away, it was Malfoy Jr. What was his name....Draco? Ah yes, that was it.

If possible the student was even paler than he'd been before. He followed Snape silently with his head held high.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore stood from where he was seated at his desk. "And Mr. Malfoy."

"Headmaster," Snape replied.

Draco remained quiet, but his eyes widened a bit as he noticed that she was there and that the room was a complete mess.

Dumbledore moved out from behind his desk.

"Is everything in order?" he asked.

"It is," Snape said. "I have spoken with Draco about Flooing his things to him at a later date."

"Yes, yes," replied Dumbledore. "Best to get home as soon as possible. Will you be accompanying him Severus?"

"Yes."

"Please give my condolences to Narcissa then," Dumbledore said before turning to Draco. "These next few month will be very difficult for you. However, I am sure that you will be able move ahead, with your head held high. If you ever need anyone to speak with, know that my ears are always open."

Draco curtly nodded before making his way to the fireplace. Snape followed a few steps behind him.

Together they left in a blaze of green flame.

"Mr. Malfoy's father passed away tonight while at the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said, watching the green flames die down.

Faith couldn't help the smirk that formed on her face.

"The Ministry is under the impression that Malfoy died while battling with one of those who came to help the children. Since he was dressed in full Death Eater regalia, the Ministry is trying to sweep the death of a prominent board member under the rug without the details of it coming to light. If he had been caught alive, he would be facing Azkaban. We are lucky that the current Ministry is more focused on how to save their government's face then finding out who Malfoy Senior was dueling with." Dumbledore turned towards her giving her a know all look.

"He was Death Eater scum," Faith gruffly replied, not questioning how he had realized that it was she who had killed the man. "He deserved it."

"You are correct in that he had made some poor decisions in his life," Dumbledore said. "But no man is beyond redemption."

Faith lightly snorted but kept her thoughts to herself. She did not want to dwell on what he had said. After all, she was a reformed convict. She knew that others had thought the same things about her. That she was scum and worthless. They had compared her to a rabid dog that needed to be put down or steered in the direction of enemies. But even after all she had been through, there was no way that she could feel sorry for Lucius fucking Malfoy. She knew it was hypocritical of her, but she really didn't give a flying fuck.

"Keep the 'Soup for the Soul' speeches to yourself old man," she muttered back. She wasn't in the mood to reflect on her past decisions. And she really wasn't in the mood to compare herself to Malfoy.

"So, how well has Ron informed you on the situation with Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore after a few moments of silence. Faith's head shot back in his direction. She didn't remember saying anything about Ron. He must have seen the surprise in her face. "It was not to difficult to figure out that you were the one he left with not that long ago."

"He's told me enough," Faith replied.

"Ron's condition was very curious, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore commented. "I suppose you wouldn't mind sharing some details, now would you?"

"Visions."

"Something like a slayer's prophetic dreams?"

Faith shrugged.

"I have met a few people who claim to see the future," Dumbledore continued. "And not a single one of them has been like Mr. Weasley. The more I think about Ron, the more I realize that he reminds me of a dear friend of mine, Marty McFly. Mr. McFly's knowledge of the future almost got him killed, several times. In fact, the man was lucky that he didn't do any irreparable damage to the timeline."

The name tugged at her memory, but for some reason she couldn't place it. Maybe Ron had mentioned him before, or something?

"Look, Ron knows the consequences of fucking this up," Faith spoke forcefully. "And believe me, even if we do fuck this up….the way we're heading now, the future ain't no paradise."

"I suppose he knows that better than anyone else," Dumbledore said. "Except maybe for you."

"The joys of being a slayer," sarcasm dripped from her lips.

"I'll be seeing you around, I take it?" Dumbledore asked, even though Faith knew that he knew what her answer would be.

"Yeah."

"Wonderful. I look forward to working with a slayer again," he almost clapped his hands. "Now, it's getting rather late - or perhaps I should say early. Either way, it has been a long night and I am sure you would like some rest. I would be more than happy to put you up in one of our guest quarters for the evening."

Faith almost denied him right there but stopped as she opened her mouth. This was her first attempt to show the Headmaster some good will.

"Yeah whatever," she said trying to sound nonchalant. "Madam P'll probably want to see me again anyway in another couple hours."

"Excellent," he smiled. "I already had one of the House Elves make a guest room ready for you. Feel free to sleep and we'll talk some more later. Unfortunately, tomorrow will be exceedingly busy and I doubt that I will have time to speak to you before you leave."

Faith nodded. She knew what he was saying - there was no way in hell you're leaving here without giving a forwarding address.

"If you contact Ron, he'll know how to get a hold of me," Faith answered. It was better to leave Giles out of this, especially since she just said that he didn't know anything about the situation. Hopefully, telling the Headmaster that Ron could get a hold of her wasn't going to come back and bite them in the ass.

Ron was supposed to already have his mell. Willow had originally told her that it would be done in two weeks, and that had been nearly a month ago. Apparently, something had came up that had kept that poor girl occupied. Faith had barely convinced her to take time away from her schedule to make the glamour necklace. If Faith hadn't already known they wouldn't have a crisis in Slayerville for another year, then she would have thought it was an apocalypse.

Faith couldn't help that she'd been a busy girl this past month. Between meeting with her new boss about her duties, which weren't all that much considering that she was working off her own schedule, and meeting with Robin to work on her appeal, she hadn't spent much time around headquarters. Oh, and it didn't help that the time she had spent at headquarters mostly involved long hours in the library looking up possible leads on Horcruxes. Then there was the apartment hunting, which had been a total bitch. Who knew the apartments here were all ridiculously expensive or dilapidated and smelly? At least she was able to live as a Muggle in London.

Faith sighed, realizing that her mind was getting way off track.

"I suppose I'll be seeing ya around," she said to Dumbledore, hoping to close the awkward conversation quickly.

This seemed as good a time as any to head out. It sounded like she was being dismissed. She wanted to fall into her bed, but knew that wouldn't be possible until she'd done a few things first. Giles had to be called, even though Dumbledore had said that the Ministry suspected nothing, she wanted to make sure she was able to explain everything before anyone else did.

Faith shakily got to her feet.

"You might want to take this with you," suggested Dumbledore, motioning to the pole that still laid untouched from where she had left it before.

"Excuse me?" Faith replied, clearly confused by the man's suggestion.

"You will probably need it in the future," he smiled, turning to the fireplace and grabbing some Floo powder.

Faith gently picked the pole up from besides the couch. What the hell was the old man going on about? It was just a metal pole that she had found in a disturbing storage room. Had Dumbledore done something to it? She turned it around in her hand. Nope, it still looked the same. Same creepy ass runes. Same color. Same cold metal feel.

She walked, more like hobbled, after Dumbledore. Faith used the pole like a cane, not knowing what the old man meant by 'needing it later.' The green flames were already sparking wildly waiting for her entrance.

She stepped through and into a large bedroom. Faith peeled off all of her clothes and fought the urge to throw herself into bed. That would only hurt like a bitch. Instead she gently slid underneath the blankets and relaxed into the mattress, realizing moments later that she really needed to call Giles before catching some zzz's. Groaning, she got up and found her pants that she had discarded moments earlier. It took a few minutes of searching in all of the pockets before she realized that her phone wasn't there. Crud, that's right. She'd left it at her apartment, afraid that it would be damaged in the fight. But honestly, just how many people could have called with pressing matters that needed to be attended to immediately? Her guess, not many.

Tossing her pants back to the floor, she climbed into bed once again.

Sleep came fast.

-oOo-

Even before Ron opened his eyes he knew that he was in the hospital wing. It was the smell, the sterile stench that always seemed to cling to his nostrils. He didn't panic though, after waking up in strange places often, he had developed the habit of waiting to panic until he'd remembered what he'd been doing before going to sleep.

The memory came in a flash. He had been at the Department of Mysteries. He could feel his heartbeat start to race.

Ron opened his eyes to a room full of light. It had to be midday, at least, the battle had probably been over for hours. He searched his memory quickly, trying to figure out just what had happened. The last thing that he remembered was fighting with Harry and Neville at his side. He didn't even see the spell that had taken him down. Whatever happened after was a complete blur.

Turning his head, he could see that Neville was a few beds down to his right. Harry and Ginny sat in chairs next to him, conversing with the boy in the bed. Harry looked tired. Ron had a feeling that he hadn't been able to sleep at all since they had gotten back. Ginny's ankle was wrapped in gauze. He wasn't sure what the gauze stuff was called, but knew that it helped give broken bones nutrients that they needed for healing. He had worn them a few times, and hoped that her ankle was the only body part wrapped in the stuff.

Ginny was the first to see that he had awoken. She poked Harry who abruptly stopped his conversation with Longbottom and looked over. A stream of emotions flew across Harry's face.

Anger. Pain. Relief.

Ron's stomach churned. He didn't even have to ask what had happened last night. It was written all over Harry's face. Sirius was dead. Ron had failed. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat up and felt his chest tighten painfully. Ron had been so certain that he could save Sirius. He resisted the urge to break something. It was probably a good thing that the only object in his reach was a pillow.

"Ron," Harry's voice startled him. He looked up to see that he was no longer alone. Harry stood next to his bed, looking young and tired. Ginny remained near Neville, trying desperately to look like she was not paying attention. She continued to half-heartily engage Neville in conversation, though he was certain she wasn't listening at all to the other Gryffindor.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, the two of them remaining quiet for long moments. It was an uncomfortable silence, but Ron couldn't bring himself to start talking or look Harry in the eyes. He kept his gaze down and focused on fiddling with the blanket in his fingers. He could feel Harry shift on the bed beside him. The air was thick with tension. Ron waited for Harry to explode, could practically hear all of the words that his friend would say. Ron had failed.

Failed.

There was no way to describe the misery that clogged up his throat and tasted like ash. Sirius was dead, and Harry had every right to hate him.

This was not going to go well.

"I'm sorry," he quietly stuttered out. The words tasted bitter. He took the chance to look up.

"Did you know what that prophecy said?" Harry asked. His voice was quiet but hardly calm. It was edged with sadness, or maybe acceptance. Ron considered lying. Actually he knew that lying was the smartest thing to do, but he couldn't do it anymore. Harry hated him and lying about the matter was just going to make the gap deeper.

"Yeah," he responded in a voice that was barely audible.

"And we still went?"

Ron nodded, not knowing how to respond to that.

"Why?"

The question was simple, but it hardly had an easy answer. In fact, Ron had been asking himself the exact same thing for months. Why should they go? Why should they risk the lives of their family and friends for something that Ron could have just as easily told Harry in the first place?

"Would you have believed me?" Ron asked, trying to find the words to explain. "I mean sure, you might have said that you believed me, but would you have _truly_ believed me? How was I supposed to tell you something like that and make you understand? I know how much faith you have in divination, even after what had happened our third year. I've been sounding wonky enough as is." He finished rather lamely, his voice stuttering out as he glanced back down at his hands.

"But that wasn't the only reason?" Harry pressed, his voice getting quieter as he moved closer. "Not after all of the secrecy rubbish that we've been through over the last few months."

"Yeah," Ron replied, swallowing. "I knew what Voldemort could do to your mind. And if I had told you, and he had gotten to the information, then I just……..I would have failed. And all of this would have been for nothing."

"Which is why you insisted on the Occlumency," Harry finished Ron's thoughts for him.

"Harry," he looked up. "Some of the things in my mind he can't know. It would be utterly disastrous if he ever found them out. I know I've told you this already, but I….I hope you understand."

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. Ron didn't blame him. The poor guy had a lot of information to process.

"It's just," Harry began after a few minutes only to pause again. "All of this," he waved his hand around. "All of this destiny stuff. All I ever wanted was to be a normal kid. But I can't, and I guess I was just fooling myself trying to believe that it was possible."

"I know," Ron replied. "But how could I ever explain that to you? You deserve to have a normal life Harry, and I didn't want to be the one to take that away. I didn't want it to be taken away at all."

Harry remained silent, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"You try telling someone that they're going to die," Ron quietly said. "How could I tell you that if things continue in this direction, then we're all going to die?" His throat closed as memories surfaced, and Ron pushed them away quickly.

"If we're all going to die, then why this?" Harry asked. "Why are you here then? To rub it in my face? If it's all up to destiny, then how the hell are we supposed to stop Voldemort?"

It was a loaded question. One that did not have a simple answer. It was a question that he had asked Faith before. He decided to answer Harry in practically the same way that she had answered him.

"There's this woman named Buffy," Ron started. "When she was sixteen, she was told that she would die by the time that school year was over. Like you, her life was prophesized. And when the end of the school year came, she died - drowned actually. But one of her best mates had followed her that night. He pulled her out of the water and brought her back to life with CPR. Without her friends help, she would have stayed dead." Ron paused, letting the words sink into Harry's head. "I'm….we're….not going to give up on you either, Harry. I believe that what happened to me was a way to cheat the system, like she did."

Harry gave him a disbelieving look.

"Just don't tell Faith or Buffy that I told you that story," Ron laughed lightly. "If it ever got back to Buffy that Faith was using the story of her first death for inspirational speeches, Faith would kill me."

Harry nodded, but didn't say anything else. Instead, he stood up and walked out of the infirmary. He still looked lost, still looked worn and tired, but Ron didn't know how he could fix anything concerning Harry anymore. He didn't even know if he should try.

"What did you say to him?" Ginny asked from across the room. Her voice was heavy with suspicion.

"Nothing," Ron answered. "He just needs some time to think."


	13. Beginning of Summer Part I

**A/N: **Hi everyone. I know, it's been a long time coming for an updated. For that I apologize. I am still alive and writing! The next chapter is almost finished and will be up soon. Enjoy and reviews are appreciated!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**

* * *

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Mein Teil

Chapter 12: Beginning of Summer Part I

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Harry hadn't walked for very long after he left Ron in the infirmary. It was midday and people were still about, especially with the end of finals only the day before. What Harry wanted was a place to be alone, a place where he could think. Too many emotions rattled around his head - anger, resentment, depression, apprehension, and failure just to name a few. The rankness of his mood permeated the air around him. Any unfortunate soul that did come across him would probably turn and run the other way.

He made his way up to the astronomy tower and leaned against the stone ledge. Thankfully, there weren't any of his classmates up there trying catch a last minute snog before the year was over. That would have just made his place to think awkward.

Harry ran a hand through his hair only to pause midway.

It was an action that his father would have done.

It was an action that had often caused Sirius to get a faint smile on his face.

Sirius had had his life ripped away from him due to Azkaban. Harry had hoped that maybe, just maybe one day that Sirius could be normal again. That his godfather would no longer be haunted by the Dementors of his past. Harry could have left the Dursleys and they could have just been normal. They could have just been happy.

Happy.

Harry resisted snorting to himself.

Now that was an emotion that was almost nonexistent in his vocabulary. After everything that had happened, Harry had a sinking feeling that it might be a long time before he felt it again.

Harry's depressing thoughts started to turn in circles.

He thought of what he should have done differently. Actually, he came back to that thought a lot. Dreaming up different scenarios where so-and-so would have only gotten there a little sooner. Or if they would have ran just a little faster. Or if they would have just been paying more attention. In the end though, all of this roundabout thinking got him nowhere. It didn't change anything. Sirius was still dead.

Harry thought about the prophecy. He thought about death. Voldemort's death - whether he was strong enough to actually be able to fire the curse needed to end the man's life. Would he be able to do it when the time came? Or would he just stand there, useless - immobile, waiting for his own death? His own death….

Harry thought about what Ron had done. He thought about what Ron had said. About the woman, Lara, that Ron had introduced them to. Lara, the Vampire Slayer. While Ron hadn't actually said so, Harry had a gut feeling that this was true. He had watched her fight. Harry saw the way that she kept getting up after taking hits that would have killed a normal wizard or Muggle.

Lara was. . .interesting was probably the best word to describe her. Not what he would have expected the Slayer to be like. He would have assumed someone more stable, more sure of themselves, someone more like the Muggle superheroes in Dudley's comic books. Someone like Superman perhaps, in a red cape and spandex.

Slayers probably knew what it was like to be the center of prophecies. After being at the center of a mystical battle for eons they probably had a lot of practice dealing with it. Hell, they would probably do a right better job at it then what Harry had done so far. Ron had even told him about a girl named Buffy and how she had beaten prophecy. While he didn't say that she was a Slayer - Harry would bet galleons that she was. Why couldn't it be her in Harry's place instead? Harry bet that she could have probably handled it better instead of getting one of the few people that she cared about killed.

How had Ron even known about the Slayer Buffy (Harry was sure that she was, in fact a Slayer) anyway? Harry had thought that the only Slayer Ron had known was Lara. But now that Harry thought back to it, Buffy wasn't the only name Ron had mentioned in connection to Slayers. What was the other name…Hope? No, but something like that. Not Hope…Faith! The other name had been Faith.

His stomach churned in reaction to his thoughts about Ron. Ron knew more than he was saying. Merlin, Ron was probably in a lot deeper than Harry had originally thought he was. It seemed very like a strong possibility that Ron knew multiple people who worked for the Watcher's Council.

Buffy and Faith. Oh, and Lara.

The name Buffy seemed very familiar to him. He knew he had heard it somewhere before - after all, it wasn't a common name, especially in wizard society.

And, hadn't he been reading something recently about the Slayer?

Harry hurried back to his dorm room in search of the newspaper that Luna had given him weeks ago. Classes must have just gotten out for the students who hadn't had O.W.L.S., because there were quite a few people mulling around the halls. Harry tried to keep his face impartial as he heard the whispering from the clumps of students he ran past. It was best to try to keep his ears shut as he already knew what they were spreading rumors about. After all, it wasn't like they knew what had really happened last night. If he paid attention to all of the trite that they were spewing from their mouths, no doubt his mood would turn even fouler then it already was.

He had a hard enough time trying to control his emotions right now as it was.

He ran past the students who seemed to part for him. A few of them though, were brave enough to try to call his attention. They were wholly wrong if they thought he was going to respond.

Harry thundered up the stairs and into his dormitory. He dug through his trunk, tossing aside various trousers and jumpers before letting out a frustrated sigh. It definitely wasn't there.

Maybe Hermione had it?

The thought of trying to get into the girls' dormitory briefly crossed his mind before he realized just how foolish it was. After all, hordes of randy teenage boys throughout history had probably tried entering that wing and Harry had never heard a success story. With just his luck, he would be the one to get in and then he could add that to his already long list of things that made him a freak.

Harry sighed and kicked the bed in frustration.

He couldn't think like that.

He wasn't going to wallow in self pity anymore. Just look at where that got him. Right killed his Godfather. Not to mention put his friends in the hospital wing. A bang up job he did at that.

Ron was right. Harry wasn't ready to give up the life he so desperately wanted. He wasn't ready to give up the dream of being normal.

With muffled curses Harry began collecting all of the clothes that he had tossed onto the floor minutes before. Bending down to grab a jumper that had landed partly under his bed, he noticed something peaking out from the red fabric. Harry pulled the jumper away to see the object he had been searching for.

Forgetting all about the mess that he made, he snatched the newspaper and flopped down onto the bed. There, right on the cover was the article that he was searching for.

**Apocalypse Now!**

**The Watcher Council Destroyed. The Hellmouth Opened. ****And yet we all survived.**

_**First look at how close we came to Hell on Earth and how it'd been adverted, yet again.**_

**The Hellmouth Released**

_With the excitement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the escape of the convict Sirius Black and proof surfacing of the existence of the illusive Black-Toed Snorlack (evidence noted in last Nov. edition of the Quibbler), it has been easy to overlook the supernatural world outside the wizarding community. But overlooking the supernatural world means playing a dangerous game - a game that was almost lost to the forces of evil not to long ago._

_As long as there has been a Ministry of Magic there has been a Watcher's Council. We learned about their importance history class, but the Watcher's Council has long been an organization surrounded in secrecy. They have been said to be the guardians against the forces of darkness. An enigmatic society that had been granted eons ago with the right to train the Slayer. It is a world that few wizards and witches can even dream about._

_But this time, the Watcher's Council was almost overthrown by the darkness that it strives to keep at bay._

_When the Watcher's Council's main headquarters was destroyed a year ago in November, it didn't even make headlines. The Quibbler was the only newspaper to have reported the destructive event. But the obliteration of the Council's headquarters was only the beginning of the looming doom. It was an ominous omen of what was yet to come. Many Watchers died in that fiery blaze, the exact numbers are still shrouded in mystery._

_Whisper reached this reporter's ears that anyone in connection to the Watcher's Council had been hunted down. And that those who had survived had gathered in Sunnydale, California - USA. Why, you might be asking? For you see, Sunnydale had been the location of La Boca del Inferno, better known as the most active Hellmouth throughout history. Hellmouths are spots where the fabric of space and time is weak; thus creating thin dimensional walls. Amplified energy as well as demonic activity is what best describes Hellmouths. There were twenty-six of these dimensional weak spots known throughout the world (for a complete list of their locations see page 6) with Sunnydale being the largest and most active._

_The surviving members of the Watcher's Council had been converging on the Hellmouth in a last stand against a demonic force of evil. As what the exact threat to our existence was, it is unclear. But our sources say that it was the dreaded Pacanu prophesied by the great Gustavanos in 1872. A creature that has been sited roaming the Russian countryside for the past six years and is known to be a demon of death and destruction._

_The final battle against the Pacanu demon ended with the destruction of the Hellmouth and the town of Sunnydale that sat upon it. This destruction created a chain reaction and caused the other Hellmouths to flare up - the most noticeable one is located in Cleveland, OH - USA._

_While what had happened in Sunnydale is a mystery, there are plenty of tales to be heard and effects that can be seen throughout the world. The most intriguing of these is the fact that there is no long the Slayer. Instead, our sources have confirmed there to be an army of Slayers ready to fight the forces of darkness. With the Watcher's Council being rebuilt in London and an army of Slayers at their beckoning call, it is important to understand just who the Council really is._

**The New Watcher's Council**

**Rupert Giles**

_A once curator of a Muggle museum and former Watcher, he now leads the Watcher's Council where Quentin Travers left off. Sources confirm that he is responsible for training the current head Slayer (Buffy Summers) and was a part of the Sunnydale battle._

**Buffy Summers**

_Ms. Summers is best known as the eldest of the current Slayers. She is rumored to be longest living Slayer in history. She currently is the head Slayer at the Watcher's Council and it is said that she was one of the key people responsible for the destruction of the Sunnydale Hellmouth._

_She was last spotted with her sister in Rome but has also been seen in London busy setting up the new Watcher's Council. The Quibbler has contacted her several times for an interview, however, Ms. Summers has thus far declined._

**Faith Lehane**

_Ms. Lehane is a Slayer that our sources have confirmed being active for six years. It is unclear as to what caused her activation (before the great upheaval, Slayers were only known to be activated upon the previous Slayers death) but one can assume that some sort of tragedy struck Ms. Summers. Ms. Lehane is best known for her illegal antics over the past years. Five years ago her image graced the wanted posters in both the Muggle and wizarding world - after a gruesome murder had been committed. It is rumored that she escaped prison in order to help with the crisis at Sunnydale. It is unclear as to whether this convict has reformed her ways._

_Ms. Lehane is currently stationed at the Cleveland Hellmouth._

Harry's eyes came to a halt.

He knew he had recognized those names that Ron had let slip out.

What exactly had Ron said again?

Something about not wanting Buffy to know that Faith was using her past for inspirational stories….actually, Ron had said not to tell either of them. But why in Merlin's name would Ron think that Harry even had the chance to do that? Unless….Unless Harry had already met one of them.

Harry read through the descriptions of the two women again.

It had to be. It just had to be.

Lara had to be either Buffy or Faith.

Harry thought back to the meeting that he had witnessed in the Hogsmeade that night. The woman Ron had met with was dark haired and most definitely sounded like Lara.

Now all Harry had to do was find pictures of the two Slayers to figure out which one she was.

Despite the cloudy haze of emotions that he had been feeling all morning a smile broke across his face. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione. And just think…..Harry had it almost all figured out on his own. With the shitty week he had been having it was nice to have just a little confidence boost.

But what if the Slayer in question was Faith?

She was a convicted murderer after all.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and halted as the action once again caused him to think about his father and Sirius.

It didn't matter. How could it? If Lara was Faith instead of Buffy, Harry would just have to be fine with it. Lara had fought by his side. She had tried to save Sirius. Lara had taken spell after spell until she was beaten up to a bloody pulp. After all was said and done, she was the type of person who he wanted fighting next to him. And if that person had been to prison, so what! It would be right hypocritical for Harry to hold prison against her anyway. Sirius had been to prison as well.

Harry gathered the Quibbler up into his hand and dashed towards the door. He wanted to be sure about his theories by the time that Hermione was back up. Stumbling on one of his strewn about trousers, he barely made it out of his dorm without tripping. Hopefully the library had a few more articles and perhaps even some pictures of them. At least Faith's wanted poster shouldn't be too difficult to dig up.

He almost ran through the halls. Hermione would be so proud. Here it was, school over and Harry rushing to the library to do some research.

Internally he groaned.

She was never going to let him hear the end of this.

-oOo-

Faith walked into her apartment complex with the events of the past night running through her head. While she wouldn't say that things had gone as planned, they did come out in one piece with the wizarding world now aware of the fact that Voldemort was back. Faith supposed that it was at least a small step in the scheme of the war. After all, things could have gone much worse.

Faith frowned as she made her way up the stairs; the thought of Sirius's death fresh on her mind. She wasn't able to speak with Harry again before she had left. Faith had thought of loitering around some more in case she had a chance to see the kid, but she really needed to get back to the Council. Hopefully the damage that she'd done with her huge fuckup didn't need too much clean up.

Harry hardly knew her. It was difficult considering that she felt like she knew the guy inside and out. Years she had fought by his side, followed his orders and contradicted him when he had been making a stupid decision. Harry was one of the few people in her life that had trusted her. He had valued her decisions and had listened to what she had to say. It was difficult enough knowing that she would have to start over. She had only just met Harry (again) and already had one failure under her belt.

Fuck, she was too tired to be thinking about this shit.

It just made her angry and annoyed and Faith was just to exhausted to deal with those emotions right now.

She unlocked her door quickly and tried not to let out a heavy sigh as she shuffled inside. Her place was a fucking mess. She had to kick away shoes and half unpacked boxes in order to open the door all of the way. Weapons were strewn about. Empty beer cans and bottles littered the floor and among them were pieces of clothing that had escaped from her bedroom. Faith would never claim to be the cleanest of people, but since her trip to the past things had kind of gotten out of hand.

She dropped the stupid metal rod that Dumbledore had insisted she take onto the couch as she walked through the living room. That man was even crazier in person then in Ron's stories - and that was certainly saying something. Faith wasn't sure if she was looking forward to seeing him again or not. Just thinking about trying to understand him was the start of a headache.

Faith did not need a headache. In fact, she planned to keep her mind blissfully unoccupied while she took a few minutes to relax. Holding on firm to her new sense of determination of doing nothing, Faith ignored the mess as she strode to the bathroom. Her mind focused on the prize. . . .a long, hot shower.

Madam Pomfrey had scourgified her skin and outfit, but she still felt dirty. Faith peeled off her clothing as she walked to the bathroom and tossed them to the floor.

After what seemed like the best shower of her life and a fresh pair of clothes, Faith figured she better find her phone and give Giles a call. She toweled her hair dry and glanced around the room. Now, where the hell did she leave it?

It took ten minutes of digging through all of her junk for Faith to realize that maybe she really did need to take some time to clean. She finally found her phone on the table next to her bed. Faith picked it up and flipped it open with a loud click.

What the fuck?

Who the fuck had called her twenty-six times in the past two days?

Come on!

That many calls in the span of two days either meant that someone was dead or there was an apocalyptic situation. Faith really didn't need either of those things right now to add to her to her already complicated life.

She scrolled through the calls, and sighed. It looked like Buffy had called plenty of times….oh and Giles had called too….Just fucking great.

Her almost relaxed mood seemed to vanish as she stared at the phone. How wonderful were the days when she could have disappeared without someone expecting her to be attached to the hip with technology? At least in prison she had plenty of time to herself.

She barely gave a moments thought before deciding to call Giles first. Faith didn't want the stress that came from dealing with Buffy. Chances were that they were calling about the same thing anyway.

He answered after only a few rings.

"Faith, about time," he sighed in what sounded like relief. But that didn't last for long considering the next words out of his mouth sounded angry. "Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to get a hold of you for two days."

"Um, sorry," she replied, not really meaning it. "I was busy with the wizarding world."

"I don't care how busy you were last night, you missed an important meeting," he answered. "Just get to the Council Headquarters as soon as you can. You can find me in my office."

Faith flipped her phone shut without a response. Giles knew that she would come running like a good dog, so there was no point in saying it.

Her apartment was not that far from the headquarters. As it was, she could just walk the distance it took to get there.

The afternoon, was cool with a warm sun. Unfortunately, not even the sun brightened her mood though. There were definitely a few things that Giles could be calling about and judging by the tone of his voice, it had to be something unpleasant. Hopefully, he hadn't already figured out that she had gone to the Department of Mysteries last night.

She could just hear his voice now. _Faith, do you have any idea about the position that you put the Council in?_ There would be some tutting and glasses cleaning before he would continue. _Honestly, don't you have any bloody sense? I thought that you understood the subtleties between our two governments. You had promised to not act irrationally, and now look at what you've done._

Faith had kind of wanted to break the news about her trashing part of the Ministry of Magic gently. But who the hell could have even told him? He would probably be furious at her if he heard about it from Dumbledore or worse, Fudge.

By the time she had reached the Council, she was practically expecting the worse. The building seemed emptier then normal and her footsteps echoed in the almost silent halls. Faith knocked loudly before letting herself into Giles' office.

"What's all of the fuss about?" she asked plopping herself down into one of the arm chairs. Giles looked up at her amidst a field of papers. He set his pen down and leaned back in his chair. Faith tried not to shift as she continued, "After all, I am technically retired from the slayer business."

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, never a good sign.

"What happened?" Faith asked a little more seriously. She even sat up a little straighter showing concern. She knew the man well enough to recognize that something bad had happened. Hell, just taking a quick look at the man could tell her that. Giles' outfit was rumpled and she would bet anything that he had spent the night in those clothes. And was that a stain of some sort on his tan collared shirt? Now that he had taken off his glasses, she could even see dark circles under his eyes. "You look like shit."

She couldn't help the words that escaped from her mouth.

"Thank you Faith, for that astute observation," Giles' quipped. He took a sip from the blue mug that sat on his desk. Even from where she sat, Faith could tell that it was coffee instead of tea he was drinking. It was never a good situation when Giles drank what he fondly referred to as 'that foul sludge.'

Giles dug through the papers scattered on the desk, in search of something hiding amongst them. After a few moments, he pulled a manila folder from the chaos. Opening it, he adjusted his glasses as he rummaged through the pictures contained within.

Faith leaned forward a bit in attempt to see what he was looking at.

"Thirty-five days ago, we received a call from our forces in Paris. As you may or may not know, there was a small squadron of three slayers, one witch and one watcher who were stationed there. The watcher, Willis, called to informed us that one of his slayers, Rhonda, had disappeared," Giles said as he held up a picture of a blonde girl. Faith didn't recognize her and decided that she must be one of the newbies that she had never met (both now and in the future). "Willis believed that they had significant forces to handle the investigation of discovering what had happened to Rhonda. If he decided he needed reinforcements, he was going to contact us with the details.'

'Willis missed his reporting time one week later. After four more days of hearing nothing and not being able to reach him on the phone, we sent another force to Paris." Faith nodded, it was almost common to miss the weekly call letting headquarters know that no one had died…. etc. However, that call normally came within the next day or so. Faith listened intently, not liking where this conversation was going as a nagging suspicion began to eat away at her thoughts. "There were clear signs of a struggle and blood splattered the flat where they were staying. Traces of magic were found from what was certainly the witches doing. Beyond that, there was no sign of what had happened to the team that had occupied Paris.'

'Then six days ago, we got a report from Berlin that another slayer had disappeared. After the initial call, we haven't heard from them again. We sent a taskforce to investigate the situation. They called yesterday afternoon, it is the same as Paris.'

'Buffy and Willow left for Berlin early this morning to investigate more deeply. I wanted to join them, unfortunately, I can do more here as of right now."

Faith couldn't help but stare at Giles with her mouth slightly open.

This was wrong.

Faith let out a shaky sigh and ran her hands across her face. The implications of just how wrong this was, were staggering.

Memories of years past ran through her head. She frantically tried to match up dates and events. Images ran through her mind as she tried to figure out where they fit into her life. Faith wasn't sure how long she sat there, deep in thought before settling on one fact.

This was wrong. Very wrong.

At the age of twenty-one Faith had lived in Cleveland, training slayers and fighting the forces on the Hellmouth. Technically, she was twenty-one now. The Council had been busy setting up shop in London. Faith had been twenty-one when Angel had taken on the Senior Partners. She distinctly remembered being transported to L.A. and joining in with the last bit of the battle with Wolfram and Heart. In fact, in another month at the most Angel would be making his move.

At the age of twenty-two, Faith had been officially in charge of the Cleveland Hellmouth. The Council had finally bought land in Scotland in order to expand their headquarters into a training base that was better suited to the needs of slayers. Her and Robin were officially over. Dawn had started her second year college.

And the killings had started.

Faith was almost twenty-three when slayers had started being hunted down. It started in Paris, then Berlin. Madrid. Amsterdam. Rome. Istanbul. Athens. New Delhi. Hong Kong. The list went on and on. Faith honestly didn't remember all of the locations, only that they had spanned across the world. She remembered the first ones though, and the ones that were the most horrific.

It had started a little over a year and a half from now. The more she racked her brain for details, the surer she became of this fact.

It was all wrong. Why now?

Okay, so while Faith was a time traveler, she didn't quite understand what had happened. Or the how. Only that it worked. The mechanics of how it worked were more Dawn's or Bill's or Willow's or Hermione's department. Time, space, and physics were not really her expertise. But, what Faith did know, was that the time line was not behaving as it should. She should have another year at least before the killings started. Why would something like this change because of time travel? Could time travel even change something like that? Or were there other forces at work? Honestly, she didn't get it. She didn't even know where to begin her thought process in figuring it out. Hell, she didn't even know who she could ask about this. Ron would probably be just as clueless as she was. Everyone who had done the research before hadn't considered anything like this.

Had Faith and Ron done something to trigger the event?

Oh fuck.

In all honesty, she hadn't even started to worry about the slayer killings yet.

The first time around two hundred sixteen slayers had died. Sure, she was planning on steering Buffy and the gang in the right direction so they could take out the demon earlier. Hell she probably would have just flat out told Giles where it was going to strike so the threat could have been eliminated before it even began. Keeping more slayers alive and all that jazz would be a good thing.

But if something like this, something not even connected to Voldemort had gone this wrong; then what was going to happen with everything that she did know about the Dark Lord? What was going to happen with the other important events that were supposed to place? There was just so much; too much riding on her and Ron.

For perhaps the first time since arriving in the past, Faith had a pit in her stomach. Maybe her and Ron were in way over their heads? Maybe they were just fucking things up more? Maybe this was just too much for them to handle?

"Faith," Giles snapped his fingers in front of her face. Faith jerked at the sound and realized he had moved out from behind his desk. When the hell had that happened? "You still here?"

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Anything you wish to share?" Giles leaned up against his desk and grabbed the folder from earlier. He tossed it at Faith. She barely managed to catch it as its insides fell out. "My, you are distracted."

Faith ignored his comment and opened up the file. It was full of pictures and typed papers. Photos of blood spattered walls and fight scenes. Buildings that were crumbling because something heavy had hit it - most likely caused by a slayer who was either doing the hitting or the one being hit. Faith's mind worked overtime as it searched for clues that she remembered from the first time around.

"It's different," Faith finally said. "It's not the same."

"Excuse me?"

"It was a - a…shit what was it called?" Faith paused. "An Iuguolono demon."

"Iuguolono demons are known for being hired assassins."

"I know," Faith examined one of the photos closer.

Another image filled her senses; a scene that she had personally attended. One with body parts strewn about and blood covered walls. Bits and chunks of flesh and bone littered the room. It had not been an easy sight to see, even after everything that she had witnessed throughout her life.

Faith frowned at how different the scene in the photograph looked.

Iuguolonos were ruthless and cunning. They were trained to be assassins as soon as they came of age. They stalked and studied their prey. Figured out weaknesss and lived for the kill. Their claws had paralyzing toxins and were very very sharp. With the basic knowledge of spell work that it had, it was a deadly combination. Iuguolonos weren't rare but one that was talented enough to go after slayers was. It also would have been very expensive. The Iuguolono didn't go off killing slayers because it wanted to. No, it was hired - plan and simple. The Council had never figured out who had hired it either. It had taken two years to finally track down the demon. Two years and two hundred sixteen slayers later.

Giles was quiet as he pulled another photograph from his desk and peered at it.

"This wasn't done by a Iuguolono demon," Giles said looking up from the photo.

"No," Faith muttered in thought. "You're right, it wasn't."

"Faith," Giles said taking a moment to rub a spot on his glasses. "I'm a little confused here."

Faith opened her mouth only to leave it hanging there. She wasn't sure where she should even start. Hell, she wasn't even sure what she fucking wanted to say.

"I know," was all that she could think to say.

Faith couldn't figure out if he looked angry, frazzled, or unsure about the situation. As it was, he settled for walking back over to his desk. He unscrewed the cap of a little brown bottle that Faith hadn't noticed before and emptied the rest of it into his blue mug.

Faith let out an uncontrollable snort at his actions.

"You honestly didn't think that I would be drinking this sludge without the additive of alcohol? Did you?"

"Of course not," Faith replied still looking at the photograph. While it was obviously a different type of demon attacking the slayers; there were still some similarities. So far the first two locations of attacks were the same. Perhaps, just perhaps Faith could still do some good with this. "Madrid."

"Excuse me?" Giles asked.

"While it's not an Iuguolono, the pattern is so far the same," Faith stated. "It'll attack in Madrid next."

Faith didn't look up, but she could feel Giles' eyes on her.

"When?" he asked.

"I don't know," replied Faith. "A month, month and a half? Fuck I don't even remember the names of the slayers stationed there."

"We'll have to be discrete. If we can get ahead of this thing without alerting it to our presence. . . ." Giles trailed off at that point and started rummaging through papers again.

It was a reaction that Faith wasn't expecting. She at least expected a question or two about how she could possibly know that. The last thing she expected was for him to just take what she said as fact.

"Wow, you just. . .took my word for it," Faith practically muttered to herself.

She hadn't meant for him to hear her, but she must have been a little too loud with her inside voice. Giles looked up from his papers and made a clucking noise.

"Willow told me," he said.

"What?"

"After our first meeting about the wizarding world back in March, I called Willow in to speak with her."

"Fuck," Faith knew exactly where this was going.

"She told me," Giles removed her glasses. "About you and Ron . . . and the . . . um. . .time travel."

Giles paused but Faith felt no need to fill the silence.

"Willow wouldn't exactly tell me the details, but what she told me was enough."

"And you believed her?" Faith asked.

"I wasn't sure at first. I'm not going to lie Faith, while I hadn't seen you _that _night I did read Willow's report. I honestly thought that you had had a mental breakdown. Let's just say that time travel is not the most reasonable of excuses for losing one's mind.'

'But Willow insisted that what she had seen inside your and Ron's minds had absolutely convinced her that you were telling her the truth. Perhaps what was even more troubling was how worried she was that you wouldn't be able to stop it."

Faith couldn't help the feeling of anger that came over her. Willow had promised her that she wasn't going to say anything to anyone.

"If it makes you feel better, I had to practically force it out of her," Giles smiled. "After your creative version of the truth about vivid slayer dreams and Voldemort I knew that there was something that you were not saying. And I have to admit, I'm glad that Willow told me considering you've been running around breaking half of the laws between the Council and the Ministry of Magic."

"It's not that I didn't want to tell," Faith replied rather lamely, "but you have an empire to rebuild. And just because I'm working on one apocalypse doesn't mean that there aren't others that you need to worry about. I haven't really been on your good side, or anyone's good side for that matter. Besides, I wasn't fancying another jail visit anytime soon and that is exactly what could happen if certain people hear about this."

It wasn't that Faith actually thought that Giles would throw her in jail for breaking a wizarding law but she knew it was a possibility. Time travel was a pretty big taboo and in all honesty, she wouldn't fault Giles if he thought that she was a threat to reality. The universe collapsing and all would be a bad thing.

"You've changed," Giles said, giving her a long look. He didn't say those words in a disapproving way either, no - it was more like he was proud of her. Faith smiled slightly at just how much better that statement from her mentor made her feel. He returned the smile briefly before turning back to his paper work. It was one of those smiles reserved for cheering another up - like one of those lame smiles that she always made fun of that was supposed to inspire trust in others. Urgh, he was turning her into one of them. "And if we really are going to hell in a hand basket, then we have a lot of work to do. Now we just have to figure out where to begin."

Faith nodded.

"This happened before correct, an Iuguolono demon you said?"

"Yah, but not for another year or so."

"And now it's happening sooner?"

"I know," Faith practically threw up her hands in frustration. "What the fuck Giles? Neither Ron nor I have done anything that would have impacted this! We've both been focusing our efforts on Voldemort considering he's a bigger problem."

Faith rubbed her head. This fucking sucked!

There was only one thing distinctly different that happened to her in this timeline that was absent from before; the slayer dreams about killing Buffy. She's been having them on and off for a month now. Slightly varying from each other but with a similar message and outcome. She'd kill Buffy, sometimes in anger, sometimes in fear and sometimes with carefully laid plans. But she always killed her for the same reason… because Faith didn't belong. It didn't matter that the other slayers were practically her sisters, she was still alone. She would always awake feeling like she had in her darker days.

Angry.

Unsure.

Abandoned.

While she might say that her and Giles had a mini-breakthrough today, she still did not dare to tell him about the dreams. Whatever trust he finally had in her would go out the window as soon as she opened her fucking mouth.

Just fucking great!

"So what do I need to know about this war?" Giles questioned bringing her out of her thoughts. He was still looking through the papers on his desk. "I've heard from Willow, but I'd much rather hear it from you. We can start with that at least, then move on to what might be the cause of these changing events."

Faith's mouth seemed to go dry. After all, it wasn't an easy subject to talk about. It was much easier when it had been Willow. Willow had seen the future in jumbles and images while fixing Faith and Ron. There was no need to explain the pain and terror. But talking about it to Giles was a different matter entirely. The words were hard to form and just finding the dialogue to describe the despair was not easy.

Faith was aware of Giles watching her as she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to make the words come out. At least the man was patient.

"Fuck Giles, I don't even know where to start," Faith mumbled. "Well - the world pretty much gets fucked over. Voldemort made a deal with some of the head honchos of various demon clans. He entered in, I guess you would call it a partnership, that allowed demons access to our dimension in return for their help in securing his power."

Her words came out in a blunt rush. She was never good at sugar-coating things and she wasn't about to start now.

"By the time that Voldemort made the deal with the demons he already had a large foot in the door of the Wizarding British Ministry. A supporter of his, Pius Thicknesse became the Minister of Magic and quickly started turning up the shit on Muggles. Blamed them for declining birth rates in Wizarding society, the warmer climate due to all those Muggle contraptions which caused crops to fail and other crap like that. It wasn't that hard - Voldemort had already stirred up the general public, but there never had been a political group to back him up - at least not publicly. And shit could this guy talk.'

'The demons were the one to begin the initial attack on Muggles. I think though, Voldemort had planted rumors in the Muggle governments that it was the wizards who were really behind it. Because when the Muggle government fought back, they went after the wizarding governments as well as killing whatever demons they could find. Shit, the demons were only killing Muggles, and not touching the wizarding community at all. It seemed like a pretty clear cut case for a hell of a lot of wizards. Let's just say it didn't do well for Muggle/Wizard relations.'

'Voldemort took his place as Minister after shit started hitting the fan. They were at war with the Muggles who seemed to be attacking them for no reason and they need a leader who they knew would be firm in the time of war."

Faith sighed.

"Fuck, by the time that Voldemort came into office - he was welcomed with open arms! Who knows if wizards even knew that it was due to Voldemort in the first place that the demons attacked? It was because of the damned demons that the Muggle had thought it was the wizards! All that the wizarding masses saw was that Voldie was a leader who could save them and they rallied behind the fucker."

Faith looked up at Giles' face to see that it had probably changed a shade or two paler. His lips where in a thin line and practically white. Giles' definitely had an idea of where this was going. He was knowledgeable on the dealings with Voldemort and understood that he harbored no pleasant feelings for Muggles.

Faith looked away and out the window before continuing.

"Then there was us - The Watcher's Council was smack dab in the middle of one giant clusterfuck. We were in just as much trouble as the wizards - we were considered supernatural and lumped in with them. Some of the girls were pissed. You give years of your fucking life to protect humanity and they just turn on you in a second because you're _different_. Let's just say, that there were more then a few slayers who willing joined up with Voldemort's cause. Fucking sucked it did. No one likes seeing a slayer that was once your sister now fighting with the enemy."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the man taking a long swig out of his 'coffee.'

"I don't blame them though. Voldemort was trying to create an all magical world. One that didn't have a place for Muggles and well, we slayers fit into that - as did the demons, and trolls and werewolves and whatever other mystical creatures that he had held a hand out too. Shit there were even reports that he had been wooing slayers years before the actual attack on the Muggles began!. It wouldn't fucking surprise me either."

Faith had to take a deep breath to calm the feeling that she needed to smash something. That type of ignorance - of hate that Voldemort had harbored always pissed her off. She hated prejudice.

"The wizarding society that opposes the Dark Lord is called the Order of the Phoenix and the surviving members of the Watchers Council worked with them in the fight to preserve the non-magical world. It wasn't an easy fight, and it wasn't one that we were winning. When we lost the figure head of the resistance most of the outside support system broke. They just saw his death as a symbol that the fight was over and gave in to Voldemort. Those who opposed the Dark Lord were no longer hidden or helped. Instead we were handed over to his minions.'

'We were sent to _work camps_…." Faith trailed off, "and I'm not even going to fucking begin to explain those cause you can fill in the blanks on your own."

Her gaze landed on Giles again who only slightly nodded for her to continue.

"It became so bad that even though we knew how to kill Voldemort, we knew that the annihilation wouldn't end with him. It had gone too far. He had too many supporters. Muggle life was practically dead. Demons were everywhere. It had all gone to fucking hell…. So - we came up with a plan.'

'Some of the best fucking minds worked together to send Ron and I here," Faith sternly said to Giles. He didn't look so good. He looked at a loss for words and that was not something that Faith was used to. "I'm….I'm not going to let the world come to that….No fucking way will I ever let the world come to that fate and I will do everything in my power to stop it."

When she was finished Giles was silent for a long while.


	14. Beginning of Summer Part II

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**

* * *

**

**Mein Teil**

**Chapter 13: **Beginning of Summer Part II

* * *

In the week following Faith's talk with Giles, she found herself spending a lot of time in the library. In fact she was spending more time at the library then what was healthy for her. It was wrong, so very wrong. Faith was never one for research. She hated the research. Faith was more of an action girl. Sitting around in a musty library was not her idea of a good time. Or a productive time for that matter - at least not for her.

It sucked. Faith knew damn well that this was part of the job description when she signed up for the trip. Hell, she knew that Ron would be with Harry all the time and thus would be the one trying to get him prepared and training, while she would have to concentrate on other things. Faith knew that she would be busy hunting down the Horcruxes, but damn there was a lot of research involved. It was hard, all Faith really wanted to do was to be out there fucking up some Death Eaters. Or hell, she'd be even up to taking on the Big V himself again, even if she did less then a stellar job at it last time. It was the waiting, the sitting that she couldn't deal with.

Just because the research was part of the job did not mean that she had to enjoy it, or be any good at it.

Faith thanked whatever god that was listening that Willow and Buffy were not in London right now. She couldn't imagine the shit that they'd give her when they found out that she had spent a good ten hours a day - every day - this week researching. The worst part was, was the Council library was only the beginning point. She needed to figure out a way to get into the London's Wizarding Library. She had been speaking with her new employer for a way to get her a temporary pass - in the name of hunting down rare artifacts of course. He said that it was a possibility. While he knew that her job was a cover for something else, her boss did not know what. But, he told her as long as she brought him some artifacts that he could actually use, then he didn't care. It wasn't like Faith wasn't going to come across rare artifacts anyway. She had a feeling that she was going to have to actually buy a shit ton of them in her search. It would only be after getting them back to the Council headquarters that she'll be able to figure out if they were indeed the Horcruxes that they were after.

Identifying the damned objects was another big problem. Faith had no fucking idea on how she was supposed to recognize a Horcrux. Hell, she didn't even think Ron knew how to identify one yet. The only person who could probably tell them whether it was, or was not one, was Dumbledore. Her and Ron had just counted on the fact that he would help them in this little matter. Wouldn't they be screwed to high water if their assumption was wrong, or if the old guy croaked? Fuck that would suck. Ron had told her that Dumbledore had died at the end of sixth year and that he was going to save the old man even if it meant killing Draco Malfoy himself.

"Faith?" the slayer in question looked up as a voice broke her out of her thoughts. Dawn stood over her with a puzzled expression on her face. "I didn't know you were in London."

Faith smiled at Dawn, it was good to see the girl looking stress free.

"Yep, here I am," Faith replied. "What are you doing here? Aren't you still in school?"

"I graduated two weeks ago," Dawn replied pulling out a chair next to her and sitting down. "Thank God too. I don't think I could have taken high school any longer."

"Understand you there kid," Faith smiled. Hell Faith fucking dropped out of that hellhole the first chance she got. Now that she thought about it, why the fuck hadn't Giles said something to her. The watcherman didn't seem like the type of guy to encourage high school dropouts. It probably had to do with her status as a slayer. After all, what good was a fucking education when there was a high chance of dieing?

"So, how've you been?" Faith tentatively asked. Pre-apocalypse Faith would have never called Dawn a friend. There was too much baggage between her and Buffy for Faith to even bother trying to befriend the little sister. But after the war had started, they got closer. Talked about shit, bonded or whatever you wanted to call it. Fuck, Faith had even given the girl a bit of advice on how to please her man. So, this was weird. It was like Giles, or Harry or even Hermione. She knew and liked them, but they didn't really even know her.

"Okay, I guess," Dawn looked up from the book she had opened. "And you? I had heard through the grapevine about your breakdown in Cleveland a couple of months ago."

Faith held back a snort. Dawn was never the one to hold back her thoughts. She had about as much tact as Cordelia or Spike. Faith liked that about the girl.

"That I did," Faith replied shaking her head. "But all better now."

"You should have heard Buffy on the subject," Dawn mumbled.

Faith snorted. She really didn't want to know what B thought about her going off the deep end.

Faith looked back down at her book not quite sure what to say next. They spent the next few minutes in silence with the occasional page scrapping to break up the monotony.

"What are you reading?" Dawn asked.

"You know I took another job right?" Faith leaned back in her chair. "After the so called breakdown, I needed some time off of the slayer shit."

"Really? I hadn't heard that."

"Yeah, well anyway - I'm working for one of the Council's other company's doing Indiana Jones type work. Looking for mystical objects and breaking into whatever magical, or demonic traps that are guarding them."

Dawn looked baffled. She opened her mouth to say something but all that came out was a soft, "Oh."

"Surprised?"

"Um, yeah you could say that," Dawn looked over at the book she was reading. "I guess I never really saw you as a research girl."

"Me neither."

Dawn looked lost in thought and Faith went back to flipping through her book. It was on famous wizards through the ages. Faith had been looking for possible objects that might be Horcruxes, no surprise there.

"Working on college stuff?" Faith asked then proceeded to shut her book loudly. Yeah - Faith should be researching but she just couldn't do it anymore today. It was time for a break and Dawn provided the excuse that Faith needed.

Dawn had gone to Oxford originally, so it was a good guess that Dawn had done some sort of preparation the summer before.

"Um, no," Dawn said looking back up. "Just a side project that I'm interested in."

Dawn didn't elaborate and Faith got the impression that she didn't want to talk anymore on the subject. Faith let her mouth snap shut with a soft sigh…there goes her excuse to take a break. Fuck, she hated research.

-oOo-

It was cold.

Not that he would have ever considered Malfoy Manor a warm place; not even after he had spent most of his life growing up in it. But it was a different type of chill than normal. What little solidity and routine that had been in the manor seemed to have disappeared now that his father was no longer around. While Draco would have never described his father as a stable man, he was the rock of the Malfoy name. Because of him they had survived and flourished where so many of the other Dark Lord supporters had failed.

But now, his father was no longer here to protect his mother. That job had been left to Draco, the newly appointed head of the family since his father's death. Draco closed his eyes, not wanting to remember the _lessons _from his father preparing him for this day.

Draco was ready for it. He was ready to pick up and lead the Malfoy name into the glory that it so deserved. Those _lessons_ had made him strong. After all this time, he would finally make his father proud.

But then again, why won't his stomach stop churning circles?

Stupid thoughts, stupid cold.

Draco Malfoy pulled his robe closer around him in an effort to halt the unwanted doubts that threatened to waver his determination.

He opened his eyes and took in the sight before him in the mirror.

"Draco," a soft voice came from the hall followed by a knock.

"Come in mother," he replied before turning his attention back to the mirror.

Draco was dressed in black for the evening. His blond hair slicked back and neatly styled for the night's upcoming events. While the image that stared back at him was well put together, he still frowned. Even after all of the grooming, he still looked like a child. He looked far from the image that the head of the Malfoy family needed to portray.

It was the hair.

Most certainly the hair.

It was customary that the head of the Malfoy family wore his hair long; a symbol of power and wealth. His father had worn it long, as his grandfather and his father before him. Generations of Malfoy's had worn their hair long.

And here Draco Malfoy was, the most important meeting of his life ahead of him in a few short hours and he couldn't even get his hair right.

Fantastic, just bloody fantastic.

"I don't see why we can't just use a hair lengthening spell," Draco half mumbled to his mother approaching from behind him.

"You know perfectly well why we cannot. It is tradition for the hair to be grown, earned if you may," she replied.

Draco tried not to huff, "That's ridiculous. Father had years to grow it in preparation; it was already to his shoulders by the time Grandfather had died. I've only had the span of a few weeks."

Narcissa stopped next to him. He had already outgrown her at five seven and would soon be even taller. She wore a fine dress of black and silver.

"No one expects it to be long," she said.

Draco wished that was the case, but knew that it was not. He resisted the urge to complain some more; if he ignored the hair then he supposed that he looked presentable.

"Draco," his mother began as she took a moment to flatten the cuff on his robe, "I just wanted to let you know that your father –"

"I would rather not talk about Father right now."

Narcissa withdrew her hand at his sharp voice.

Father. He had just managed to put that man out of his mind and here she was, dragging him up again.

That word, _Father_, conjured too many thoughts up into his mind.

Draco clenched his fists tight enough that he could feel his short nails dig into the palm of his hand. He was not going to think about his father now. His head needed to be clear, and just the mere mention of _him _caused anger to flood into his system. Any thoughts about Father would just take his focus away from the important task at hand. And Draco couldn't allow his calm facade to be shaken anymore then it already was tonight.

"The guests will be arriving in a half hour," his mother said as she turned to leave. "Keep in mind our earlier conversation about how to handle yourself tonight. I have faith that you will do well."

With those final words she left him alone with his thoughts.

Draco's gaze drifted back to the mirror and he inadvertently let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding. He was glad that she had left. Draco knew very well what was at stake tonight and did not need her constant reminders on the subject. She had lectured him about it all day yesterday and then continued to droll on some more during breakfast and lunch.

Make sure to be proud, but not too proud.

Make sure to listen and to do as you're told.

Make sure to answer all questions asked of you but don't give too much away.

Make sure to wait until you are called to be seen.

Merlin, he was never going to get her trite lectures on the subject out of his head.

It wasn't long before a house elf appeared and announced that the first guests had arrived. Draco tried not to frown. It looked like it was now or never. Part of him preferred never, but it he doubted that excuse would go over well. Ten minutes, that was almost certainly the amount of time he had left before he descended the stairs.

Those remaining minutes passed in a blur until he found himself standing quietly outside the double doors to a large study that his father had kept. Technically, the room was his now. The entire house was his now. He held out a fist to knock, but let it fall to his side before it touched the wood. It's _his _house; he does not have to knock within his own bloody house.

Draco lightly pushed the doors open, the hinges creaking just enough to let everyone know that he was entering. He kept his head held high as he entered and got the first glance at the ceremony before him.

His _guests_ mulled about, slightly turning in his direction as he walked through the large oak doors. He paused a moment to look around. The crowd was small, only seven people stood about the room in the masks and garb that he would soon be darning as well. Draco took a deep breath and continued forward.

His footsteps echoed across the polished wood floor until he reached the plush rug. The guest's voices dropped into murmurs as he walked to the center of the room. He could tell just from the decreased volume that it was not pleasant things that were being said. Draco frowned; he did not like the Malfoy name to be the center of such demeaning conversations. If it had been his father entering the room, they wouldn't dare whisper as they were doing so now. No one treated a Malfoy like that and in time, Draco would make them remember that he was a Malfoy as well.

Draco eyed the others in the room, staring at them with an indifferent mask. While their whispers bothered him, he would not show it. Four of the Death Eaters wore their skull masks, but the other three shown their faces in all of their glory.

Of course Bellatrix was there and maskless tonight. Draco would wager that even on raids she doesn't wear her mask. While aunt Bella often had entertaining stories to tell, she definitely was off her rocker. Draco wondered if his father would have worn a mask or if he would have been brazen enough to go without.

He noticed that his mother was nowhere to be seen in the room. It didn't surprise him though; no matter how much she would have fought to be along for this meeting, there was no way that she could have gotten in. Only Death Eaters of the Dark Lord's inner circle were present tonight, well the ones who weren't currently in Azkaban.

Draco briefly wondered who the others were underneath their masks but let the thought escape his mind. There was no point in being curious; he was not going to find the answer out anytime soon. One man only knew all of the members of the Inner Circle, and that was the Dark Lord. Draco doubted that even Bella was privileged enough to know who all of the members were.

"Awe, Mr. Malfoy," a high pitch voice spoke causing the others to go instantly silent. Speak of the devil and he shall arrive. "So glad of you to join us."

Draco approached the large chair where the voice was certainly coming from. The chair was facing towards the fireplace. He could see a pale bony hand resting on the arm. A brief glimpse of who was on the other side; not that Draco didn't already know. He approached at a relaxed, confident pace not wanting to let his unease show through. His hands were shaking and he silently pleaded that it would escape the Dark Lord's notice. _Malfoy's are not uneasy,_ he could hear Father's voice say, _we are confident and sure of ourselves in everything that we do._ Draco took a deep breath and slowly made his way around to the front of the chair. Unfortunately, the deep breath did not do anything to ease his nerves.

"The pleasure is all mine, my Lord," he responded. "I am glad to be of service."

Draco fell to his knees without being asked.

_Make sure you kneel in proper respect, _his mother's lecture sprang back into his mind. _Don't make him ask._

As if Draco didn't already know that; he did not need a reminder, even from his own head.

He could hear footsteps approach to his right. From the corner of his eyes he could see a black pair of pointed heels come to a stop. He recognized them as belonging to Bellatrix.

"Rise."

Draco hesitated for a moment unsure if the Dark Lord was speaking to him. He tentatively rose to his feet but kept his gaze focused downward. _Don't meet his eyes,_ this time it was Snape's voice that ran through his head. _It will only be considered a challenge, keep your gaze firmly planted on his feet or not on him at all._

"I can't say just how excited I am that you are prepared to follow in your father's footsteps and join my ranks Draco," the Dark Lord drawled. "However, your father had left my services greatly indebted to me."

Draco made sure that he kept his eyes focused on the Dark Lord's feet and his head bowed. He resisted the urge to swallow and tried to calm his almost frantic heartbeat. Oh Draco had a feeling that something like this was coming, but there wasn't much he could do in preparation.

"My Bella has shared some interesting insight on the events that occurred last week at the Department of Mysteries," the Dark Lord said waving his hand at the large shimmering bowl that Draco only just noticed was there. The pensive practically loamed before him. Draco wasn't especially keen on seeing what had happened during that night a week ago. He had not been privileged to the details of what had transpired, only knowing that his father was there on orders from the Dark Lord. Draco's knowledge only came from what rumors he had heard and what he could piece together from his own memories of the day. He would no doubt be seeing his father's last moment of life.

By the slight gesture that the Dark Lord made, Draco had the feeling that it would only be the two of them watching the events. He watched as the Dark Lord placed a single finger into the substance; apparently, that was enough to transfer him into the pensive.

Despite the sickening in his stomach, Draco dipped a finger as well into shimmering liquid wondering why the Dark Lord wanted him to watch this in the first place.

He watched as the Death Eaters got a drop on Harry and his merry mini band of misfits. It was the same group with Harry that Draco had confronted on the steps of Hogwarts earlier that day. Granger and Weasley were there (which wasn't much of a surprise) and so was Weasley's sister, Loony Lovegood, Longbottum and lastly, there was that beautiful bird that he didn't recognize. Draco knew that she wasn't a student but hadn't the foggiest clue as to whom she could be.

Draco watched and tried to keep his eyes firmly on the scene as his father allowed the children to escape. The mistakes that were made were almost painful to watch. Draco wasn't the only one who thought that way either. He could practically feel the cold anger roll off of the Dark Lord making him grateful that he was not there to witness the events first hand. Draco watched as Bella exchanged some words with his father. He had shouted at her to follow the children and to bring back the prophecy.

The image of his father faded as Draco was forced to follow Bella as she chased down and fought with the male Weasley.

Draco watched the rest of the memory in a sort of a daze. It was clear that Lucius never came out of the hall of prophecies. The hall was where his father's body had been found; he had bleed to death on the cold marble floor. The only Death Eater dead while the others had either been sent to Azkaban or escaped. It seemed unjust that his father had to die when there were so many more incompetent people who should have been the ones to perish.

Draco really did not care about what happened that night from this point forward. The Death Eaters had lost and his father had died, and that was all that truly mattered to Draco. He tried to show interest when Ron summoned Neville away from Bella and then continued to fight her. A forced smile appeared on his face when Neville fell to a curse in a pool of blood. Then Draco tried to look interested when Bella killed her worthless cousin.

By the time the memory was finished, Draco found himself back with the Dark Lord in the parlor. The question of what the Dark Lord wanted to accomplish by making Draco watch the events was fresh on his mind. Perhaps he wanted to unsettle Draco or impress onto him the mistakes that his father had made? It wouldn't surprise Draco if he were held accountable for his father's failures.

"As I said my Lord," Bella practically exclaimed upon his exiting. Her voice had a hint of desperation laced into it. "It is not my fault. Lucius should have -"

"Now Bella," the Dark Lord chided. "Despite Lucius' failures, they can hardly compare to the fact that my Death Eaters were defeated by mere school children."

No one dared to speak. Bella's mouth clamped shut and Draco secretly hoped that she would be punished for her words. Draco couldn't help but agree with the Dark Lord about that. It was embarrassing. All those Death Eaters against six Hogwarts students and one unknown…it was down right laughable.

"If I may speak my Lord," one of the Death Eaters hesitantly suggested. His voice sounded familiar to Draco but he couldn't place it. It had almost a soft - unnatural quality to it, but perhaps that was just because of the mask. Draco never particularly liked those ugly things. He had never been good at identifying Father's fellow Death Eaters by voice alone. Scratch that, they were now _his _fellow Death Eaters. "I was not present that night, however Bellatrix's memories does give us some interesting insight."

The Dark Lord nodded slightly, indicating that the man should continue with his words. The Death Eaters in the room must have already watched the events in the pensive before Draco had entered. There was a slight smile on the Dark Lord, as if he had already seen what Bella had missed. It was as if he already knew what his Death Eater was going to say.

The Death Eater walked closer to the pensive and skimmed the very tip of his gloved fingers across the liquid. He swirled his fingers around calling forth a single image. Draco started a bit, he was not aware that that could even be done.

The image stopped on the unknown woman that was with them. Her face bloody and bruised as she watched from beside Harry the fight between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. He snaked his finger downward, as if he was stroking the woman's check. Even though he was wearing a mask, Draco was almost sure that there was a smile on his face.

"As I am sure that you are already most aware," he began, "she is not a witch."

Draco looked closer at the image trying to recall his own meeting with the girl. True, he had confiscated a wand from her hand, but that hardly meant anything.

"Why do you say that?" Bellatrix asked mirroring what was on Draco's mind. He was glad though that he had not been the one to ask it.

"In the entire battle she never once used her wand. In fact, she never used any magic at all," the Dark Lord answered. "Bella, I'm disappointed that you hadn't noticed. That _none_ of you had noticed."

Bella's face went scarlet and she looked back at the image of the girl.

"Well, what is she then?" Bellatrix asked loudly. "Not a _Muggle_ that's quite certain."

She sneered through the word Muggle making Draco think of his father.

"No not a Muggle," the unknown Death Eater affirmed. "The girl is far too resilient to be a Muggle. Perhaps she is another sort of creature; a werewolf or some other type of half demon? A mere human should not be conscious after being thrown about the room like that."

Draco pressed his lips together, wondering whether he should speak up.

"I saw her leave the school with Potter around four-thirty, five o'clock," Draco said. "I saw her again that evening speaking with Dumbledore in his office…. My Lord."

Draco almost forgot to put that title in there.

"Severus had mentioned seeing her as well," the Dark Lord said. "It appears that Dumbledore is reaching out for allies in uncharted territory for the Light. Have you seen her anywhere else around Hogwarts lately?"

"No," Draco answered glance back to the pensive. The Death Eater who seemed to have a bit of brains had reversed the pensive to the fight that took place in the room with the arch. Draco watched with a small frown on his face as the woman bounded down the stairs to Weasley's side. Weasley had just taken quite the hex that left him slumped in an unconscious heap. Draco didn't want to admit it, but he was quite impressed by some of those curses that Weasley had been throwing around. Come to think of it, Draco wasn't even sure what curses Weasley had been throwing around.

"Can you rewind that back a few minutes?" Draco asked before realizing what just spouted out of his mouth. Perhaps drawing attention to himself while so close to the Dark Lord was not the best of plans.

Draco didn't look up but could feel _his_ eyes on him. Instead he watched the gloved hand dip into the pensive and swirl the liquid around. Draco was half tempted to ask the unknown Death Eater to show him that little trick but that would have been stupid of him.

Draco couldn't help the look of confusion that came over his disciplined features as he watched Weasley fight along side Neville and Potter.

Potter was casting spells that were familiar, although some of them were rather creative in their usage while Neville was basically useless as he was having no luck getting spells to be effective out of his wand. The tosser probably wasn't even using his own wand. But Weasley looked very different from the other two boys. When had Draco been sucked into wonky world? Ron was actually putting up a hell of a fight.

Harry almost screamed out the name of every spell that he was casting, a clear testament that he had a long way to go in silent spell work, but Ron appeared to have already mastered the subject. Every once in awhile, a spell would be uttered by his lips, but more often then not - he just flicked his wand in the correct motion and it would shot out of the tip.

The spells that Ron had been casting were of a wide variety; in fact they ranged from simple to complex. From recognizable cutting hexes to a bright yellow spell that Draco was fairly certain that Bella fondly called the eye scrambler. Seeing a spell that melted people's eyeballs come from Weasley's wand was troubling to say the least. They had gotten in quite a few schoolyard spats over the years, but thankfully, the hotheaded simpleton had never thrown anything like that at him. In fact, his spells had often been half-arsed and so full of anger that they barely did as they were commanded.

Draco shifted, thinking back to the night in March at the hospital wing. Something was not right with Weasley that night either. Draco had been fighting the pauper long enough to know how he acted and when something was amiss.

"What is it that you see, Draco?" the Dark Lord's voice cut through his thoughts. "Perhaps you do recognize the woman?"

Draco swallowed, unsure if he wanted to answer.

_You are our families protector now_, he heard his mother saying. _You have to be strong. You have to be smart and it is time for you to officially leave behind the boy you were and become an adult. You are the head of the Malfoy family now and with that comes all of the responsibility of our honor and wealth. Difficult times lie ahead of you, so you must be ready. Use your head. Plan. Be conscious of the times when you need to give information and when to keep silent. Use you mind, be cunning and we will survive this upcoming war - emerging from it far stronger then when we were when we entered._

"It's not that my Lord," Draco replied looking away from the pensive. His next words halted at his lips, unsure if he would benefit more from the truth or a lie…He almost snorted to himself, like he could even lie to the Dark Lord and get away with it. "It is Weasley. He has changed."

"Weasley," the Dark Lord repeated looking into the pensive. Draco had the feeling that the Dark Lord had never given a second thought to Potter's friends. In fact, Draco would be surprised if he even knew their names. Draco wasn't sure where Potter and his friends stood in the grand scheme of things. After all, they were hardly a threat; perhaps more of a mere annoyance - like a fly on the wall. Draco had always considered Potter more of a lucky mascot of all that was good and such trite. Someone who was not to be taken seriously and only sought after by the Dark Lord due to the fact that Potter's death would crush the hope of Muggle loving fools everywhere.

Perhaps, there was something more to Potter after all - especially if there was some sort of prophecy involving the retard.

The Dark Lords' words pulled Draco away from his thoughts. "Ah yes, the son of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Ronald, I believe his name is. I had heard that him and Potter were _friends_."

The Dark Lord sneered the last word as if it was foul tasting on his tongue. With a flick of his wrist the scene played over again. The Dark Lord watched silently only to rewind it a second time and watch it over.

Draco pressed his lips together as he watched the Dark Lord rewind the image a third time. He was unsure if saying anything in the first place had been a wise decision. While he wasn't fond of Weasley in any shape or form, he still felt like he had signed the tosser's death warrant.

Draco was vaguely aware that his hands were still slightly shaking.

-oOo-

Fingers ghosted over her body; tickling the hairs on her skin making them stand on end. Her entire body felt hyperactive, amplifying the simplest touch to the point where she was almost shaking all over. An uncontrollable moan escaped from her lips. It was loud and obscene and almost certainly heard by those bunking in the same building.

Lips pressed against her skin almost as if reacting to her unconscious desire to want more. They lingered on her collarbone, stimulating her nerves with light pressure and tender kisses. Moving lower they nipped at her breasts. His lips, already familiar with the curve of her body, knew where to linger to cause the most pleasure. Another moan was ripped out of her as he lightly bit down on the sensitive spot underneath her right nipple.

Her hands wove themselves into his hair, urging him to continue in his escapades.

His hand that had been tracing patterns on her stomach continued lower. Her legs opened wider and she couldn't help arching her back as he caressed her inner thigh.

And then his lips were back on hers. The pressure was light with the first few kisses lingering as if he was tasting her. The kisses quickly deepened with need. She responded with just as much fervor as he.

The shift in his weight was all the indication she received before he entered her.

From that point on she was lost in pleasure. Her body responding to his motions on instinct.

A loud crash jerked her to her senses and light flooded the room. Muffled curses could be heard as Dawn slowly opened her eyes.

Her dream - the kisses and sensations of _him _fresh on her mind.

She sat up slowly realizing that she had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room with an open book in her lap. Dawn looked around in her almost drunken lust filled haze trying to figure what had woken up. By the front door stood Buffy with a knocked over decorative table and a shattered lamp. Her sister was grumbling as she picked up the shattered pieces of glass and tossed them into the garbage near by.

"You're home?" Dawn half questioned, half stated as she watched Buffy. She glanced at the clock to see that it was almost two-thirty in the morning.

"Dawn!" Buffy smiled and dropped the large piece of lamp that she was holding, shattering it further. She gave Dawn a good look over before saying, "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," Dawn replied. "But it doesn't matter, I should be sleeping in my bed anyway. How was Berlin?"

"A mess," Buffy sighed. "Don't worry, you'll hear all about it tomorrow as I'm sure the day will be full of meetings and gossip about said meetings."

Buffy gave the mess on the floor a tired look before getting back up to her feet.

"I'll deal with it later," she said making her way to the armchair across from Dawn. "Just be careful where you walk in the morning."

Dawn nodded taking in her sister's appearance. The rumpled cloths and worn look on her face told Dawn that it had been a very long week in Berlin.

"Go to bed," Dawn said - or more like ordered as she decided to take her own advice. "We'll do the sister thing after you've rested a bit."

Dawn got up from the couch and grabbed her book. Buffy smiled and closed her eyes, pretty much agreeing with Dawn's statement without needing to say a word. She left her sister and entered her bedroom. Closing the door, she made her way to the window and opened it.

The cool breeze rushed in to meet her face and Dawn let out a long exhale.

She wasn't sure if she was grateful or annoyed that Buffy interrupted the dream when she did. Dawn needed to take a shower, a really cold - unsexy shower. Closing her eyes, she told herself that she needed to forget the lingering kisses and the wandering hands. Dawn willed herself to forget the feeling of what it felt like to have _him_ inside her and the pleasure that filled her senses.

But that was the problem. Dawn might have been able to forget the first dream months ago in April. Hell she might have even been able to forget the second dream that came only a week after the first. But considering this is the fourth time that she has dreamt about her illusive Romeo, she had a feeling that she wouldn't forget about him anytime soon.

Dawn leaned further onto the windowsill and looked up into the night's sky.

While Dawn wouldn't say that the dreams about sex were troubling, she would say that the other strange dreams that started around the same time were. These dreams were often filled with people that she knew (like Buffy, Willow or Faith) but also some that she didn't know at all. _He _would often be in them as well. Sometimes they would be about death and destruction. Other times they were about random everyday occurrences that happen in life. Meetings and laughing, family and friends. And sex, one cannot forget the dreams about the mind-blowing sex (especially since Dawn was currently a virgin - something that she needed to rectify as soon as possible after dreaming about it in extreme detail).

Dawn had no idea what was going on. Part of her, deep down was sure that she was not going crazy. It was an all-consuming knowledge. One that she didn't doubt for a second. But just because Dawn believed that there was some truth to what she was dreaming, didn't mean she knew what was going on. Could it be that she was dreaming of the future, or perhaps of another dimension? Perhaps she could be dreaming about what could be if certain events were to come to pass? Or maybe she just had a really vivid imagination? The more she had her bizarre dreams, the clearer the picture was starting to become. Problem was that Dawn really didn't like the end picture that was beginning to form.

So Dawn did what she did best in these situations, she researched. She would find her answer to what the hell was going on - even if it killed her.


	15. Liberation

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N:** Thanks everyone for being patient. I have recently moved to the L.A. area and my life is a bit hectic.

**

* * *

Mein Teil**

Chapter 14: Liberation

* * *

"You're doing well," Ron said as Hermione opened her eyes and gave a rather frustrated sigh. Despite her progress in Occulmency, she still seemed to think that she lagged behind. It was evident by the sour look that she just gave him. Hermione had arrived on Monday - it was only Tuesday now and her expectations seemed to be rather high for herself considering barely twenty-four hours had passed. She had told her parents that she had to work with on a summer project with Ron. Actually, Hermione had just wanted a week to study Occlumency with Ron now that she had been able to do the first meditation goal.

"I'm serious," Ron said trying not to laugh at the air of frustration permeating out of her. "Remember how hard step one was? This is not going to get any easier the further we go."

"I'm not dull Ron," she huffed. "I know that."

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione as she groaned to herself and laid down lacing her arms behind her head. The two of them were on the floor of his bedroom side by side. They were working on the second Occulmency practice from the book that Dumbledore had lent them. Lesson one had been on clearing the mind of all thoughts. Over the first few weeks of summer vacation, Hermione had finally caught on with that step well enough that she felt ready to move onto the next.

The second practice (the one that Hermione was currently fuming over) focused on being able to call forth memories and images on command. It was vital to be able to call forth memories while completely hiding others in the recesses of the mind. Being able to clear your mind was good, but if a bad guy was in your mind and it was empty, then it was obvious that you were blocking them.

The third step of Occulmency was being able to add fake details or modify an existing memory.

The final step of Occulmency was constructing fake memories. Ron had never mastered this step and in all honesty did not have the talent to do so. The most he could do was 'lie' in his memories by adding details or actions or words that had not been in the original interaction. The truly skilled though could construct fake memories from scratch. This was difficult as it was hard to pass a completely fake memory for real. There were often details that the Occulmens overlooked while constructing the fake memory. The lack of these seemingly unimportant details are a dead giveaway that the memory is fake.

"What we really need," Hermione said interrupting his thoughts, "is a Legilimens."

Ron nodded lightly in agreement knocking his head against the mattress of his bed. It was much easier to learn Occulmency when there was someone who was actually pushing against your mind. Ron only knew the basics of Legilimency, and even then he wasn't very good at it. He had always been the type of guy who extracted information with more violent techniques and only then using the practice once the victim had been in too much pain to block anything. Destroying and extracting information from the mind took a sort of control and patience that Ron had discovered long ago that he never had.

His brother, Bill had been the one who had helped them learn Occulmency the first time around. While Bill was a Legilimens, he was only average at the skill - far better then Ron but no where near that git Snape's level. Unfortunately, it wasn't like Ron could just go up to his brother and ask him to help them learn the skill.

Or could he?

After all, his brother was around working at Gringotts right now as a curse breaker and he would be at the house soon considering Fleur would be spending a chunk of her summer with them in what she called 'new family bonding.' The girl might be gorgeous but once one got past her looks, he had no idea what his brother saw in her. Ron vaguely could remember a time where all he saw was how stunning she was and how he judged her on that. Thank Merlin he got over that phase quickly enough.

A rustle of clothing and thump of his wooden floor indicated Hermione was getting up. He watched as she stood up and brushed her shirt down. From his position sitting on the floor, he had a magnificent view of her bum. Her purple plaid shorts were small enough to show off her legs. In fact if he tilted his head just right, he bet he would be able to see her knickers from here.

"Where are you off to?" Ron asked as he tore his eyes away and focused on her face. He had enough sense to realize that if he continued to stare, she would most likely notice.

"I told Ginny that I would help her in redecorating her room," Hermione gave a stretch causing her shoulders to crack loudly. "Considering I told her I'd meet her a hour ago, I should probably go find her before she starts barreling down the door."

Ron leaned his head back. "We'll continue later tonight after dinner, right?"

Hermione smiled. "Since when have I ever turned down studying?"

She had him there.

Once Hermione was out of his room, he got to his feet and gave a long stretch. He had been a little surprised when a week and a half into summer holiday he had gotten an owl from Hermione asking if she could come over to work on the project that they had started while at school. Considering they were not working on any school projects, it had taken Ron a few minutes to realize that Hermione meant Occulmency. That initial confusion had quickly turned into relief as he realized that she actually still wanted to see him after the Department of Mysteries fiasco.

During the last few days at Hogwarts, Ron had found that Harry was keeping far away from him. Ron was sure that their last conversation in the hospital wing had hit Harry pretty hard. No one wanted to hear that there was a prophecy connecting them to a psychopath -especially a prophecy that ended in death.

Ron rubbed his eyes and sat down on his bed taking a moment to remember the surprising turn of events that had happened on the Hogwarts Express back to London.

_Ron was startled out of his thoughts as the door to his compartment opened. He hated to omit it, but he was surprised to see that it was Harry standing in the doorway. Over Harry's shoulder, he could see that Hermione was there as well. Ron hadn't expected them to find their way over to his compartment so quickly. He had seen them as he was walking down the isles looking for a place to sit. They were already quartered together in a compartment alone. Neither of them had noticed him peer through the window on the door; it was obvious that they had been too deep in discussion. It hadn't surprised him either considering how things had went at the Department of Mysteries. Harry hadn't been talking to him since their last conversation in the hospital wing - it wasn't any better with Hermione either as they seemed to somehow come to the decision to only limit their conversations to small talk (anything else seemed to awkward). Ron hadn't been sure how long this was going to last but he was slowly going bonkers waiting for them to seek him out. He knew that his friends needed some time, so that's what he gave them._

_ Ron hoped that it was finally time to put everything behind them._

_ "We need to talk," Harry said taking a seat across from him. Hermione followed him in and closed the door behind her. She sat next to Harry and gave Ron a small, reassuring smile._

_ Ron ran his hands through his hair waiting for Harry to continue. He was going sit, listen and focus on not losing his temper. Ron didn't want to fight, not anymore. They were a team and it was damn well time they started acting like it - him included._

_ Ron kept his gaze focused on an empty portion of the bench across from him. His fingers lightly fiddled with the hem of his shirt, a telling sign that he was nervous. With a deep breath, he tore his hands away and turned his attention to his best mate. Harry's eyes were tired and face pale. It was a look that Ron had seen many times before. One that he had always hated as it meant that Harry had either lost someone important to him or that he had come to a devastating realization. Or both._

_ Ron turned his gaze back to the spot on the bench between Harry and Hermione. He didn't want to see that look on Harry's face, especially since there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he had caused it._

_ "I'm sorry I've been such an idiot," Harry finally muttered. That wasn't quite what Ron had expected him to say._

_ "Excuse me?" Ron asked looking back at him._

_ "About everything," Harry fiddled with his sweater mirroring Ron's actions from a few seconds ago and refused to meet his gaze. "I've been such a berk this year. Pissed at Dumbledore for not telling me things and acting like he knows best - then pissed at you for acting the same way. Problem was, both of you were trying to prepare me for learning the truth; Dumbledore never said so, but _you_ did. Merlin you even told me what was going to happen. You even told my why I needed to study Occlumency but I was too stubborn to listen. You told me that we're all going to die, you told me that Voldemort could read my mind and you told me that Sirius might not make it if we went to rescue him - and you know what, I only half took you seriously. I didn't even take the _situation _seriously.'_

_ 'But you were right, I wasn't ready. Hell, the prophecy was like a slap in the face and all I could think of was why me? How the fuck was I supposed to deal with this? Why couldn't I be normal like everyone else?'_

_ 'And Sirius. . . He's gone. And the more I thought about it, the more I just couldn't be mad at you for it any longer. I don't know if I believe that you didn't know that Sirius was home safe and sound. And you know what? I don't know if I care."_

_ Harry's voice trailed off for a second but Ron remained quiet. His friend still hadn't looked at him yet. Harry's gaze was still focused on his finger's that were absently picking at his jumper. It was a few moments longer until Harry continued._

_ "I have a feeling that even if you said that he was okay that I wouldn't have believed you. That we still would have gone because I would have been too stubborn to listen. And Sirius died - not how you had said he would but he still did. And I thought maybe, just maybe it was supposed to happen."_

_ Harry went silent and swallowed deeply._

_ "Like the prophecy," he continued to ramble. "And then I thought just what if we didn't go and that thought unsettled me even more.'_

_ 'I could have lost all of you."_

_ Harry laughed almost bitterly as he continued._

_ "And I had thought that I was ready for this. I had thought that because of fourth year, I understood just what I faced. I had thought that I deserved to be a part of this, but I was an idiot. I had always thought of me.'_

_ 'And then I remember that you had said that you would sacrifice your own mum in order to stop Voldemort. You weren't thinking about you at all and that maybe. . .just maybe it was about time that I tried to put things into perspective.'_

_ 'I can't mope around anymore. I can't pretend that Voldemort can't touch me because we learned that he can without hardly any effort on his part. It was luck alone that I survived in the first place; that any of us survived as we had no business fighting Death Eaters.'_

_ 'I would give anything to have Sirius back, but…" Harry's voice cracked. "But, if he had survived, then I would have never realized any of this. . . And that, scares me."_

_ Ron was silent. After all, what the fuck could he say after listening to all that._

_ "We're a team but more importantly, we're family," Harry finally looked up at Ron and then over to Hermione. "And you were right Ron, I wasn't ready for this. But I am ready now."_

_ Ron had no idea as how to respond to what Harry had just said. He settled for nodding as he couldn't quite trust his voice to work properly. Harry met his gaze._

_ "We want to be included in your plans," Harry said reaching over to his side to briefly squeeze Hermione's hand indicating that she was in this too. "I'll be studying Occulmency as much as I can over the summer and by the time I see you again, you better have it stuck in your head that there's no more secrets between us. None - or I will kick your pasty arse until it's black and blue."_

"Ron," his mother's voice floated up the stairs completely interrupting his thoughts. "There's an owl here with a package for you!"

Ron ran a hand over his face helping to bring his thoughts out of the past and headed down to where his mother was calling from. By the looks of it, she had already paid the bird as it was now gone and a letter, along with a small blue velvet pouch, sat on the table. He picked up the letter and smiled at the return name - his _cousin_, Susan Weasley.

"Well, what did Susan send you?" his mother called from the kitchen. "I didn't know you two were corresponding again. You did get along rather well though when she was younger before her family moved to France."

"We're just catching up," Ron replied taking the letter and pouch with him as he headed back up the stairs. He was gratefully that his mum didn't open it. After all, it was from Faith and he wouldn't be surprised if it contained items that his mother would consider inappropriate.

Ron sat back down on his bed and tore the end off of the letter.

_ Ron - Here's the money that I owe you so make sure to spend it well - not on junk food and porn. I've also enclosed one of those Muggle cell phone thingies for your dad. They seem all the rage right now in the Muggle world so I figured that he would appreciate it. I hope to see you soon. Susan._

Ron fold up the letter from Faith and tossed it next to him. Opening the blue velvet pouch, he couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face. First he pulled out the mell phone that Faith had said she would have Willow make for him. It sure took her long enough; he had thought he was supposed to get it over a month ago. Faith did say though that Willow had been busy with slayer stuff.

He flipped the phone open to see the familiar interface. The little bit of the past - well future - made him smile. Dawn had been the one who had taught him how to use the mell. Ron had never been all that efficient when it came to Muggle technology which was down right wrong considering the amount of it that had always been hanging around the Burrow. The longer that Ron had lived with Muggles, the more he realized just how much his father didn't understand about them or their gadgets. Merlin, it was embarrassing just to remember the first time he had used a telephone to call Harry back in their second year. While the Dursley's were wizard-hating arse-holes, he completely understood why they had been so pissed with him for that.

Ron's face heated as he remembered how Dawn had laughed her arse off the first time he had used the mell to call Faith. He had been practically yelling at Faith. Thank Merlin Dawn had taken pity on him and taught him on how to operate the bloody thing.

Ron shook the memories out of his head and turned his attention back to the mell.

It looked like Faith had programmed two numbers into his phone for easy dial. The first was labeled Lara - which was obviously Faith, and then there was a Mr. G. Ron was a bit surprised to see Giles' number on the small list of names as he didn't think that the Watcher had been adequately informed of the situation. At least, that's what Faith had told him the last time they had spoken. Something must have changed between now and then if she's trusting Ron with Giles' phone number.

Tossing the mell next to him on the bed, he turned his attention to what else was in the package.

While he was grateful that he finally had a sensible way to contact Faith (because as much as he loved the wizarding society, owls or the Floo really were not a reasonable way to talk to someone), he was far more excited that Faith had sent him some money. They had discussed that Ron was going to need to figure out some way for him to buy a new wand. He definitely needed a new wand considering that all wands of minors were tracked by the Ministry of Magic. Ron could just see it now; he'd be battling Death Eaters over the summer only to receive a letter about his illegal use of magic. They would naturally run a check to make sure it was his wand and discover that he had been performing questionable spells which would lead to him getting expelled and wand snapped for operating without proper certification.

Ron would like to think that his mind was over reacting a bit about the consequences but his grim thoughts on the matter remained. After all, Harry already almost had it happen to him earlier this year. Granted, circumstance where a bit different considering Umbridge had been trying to make Harry seem unstable, but the principle of the matter remained the same. Besides, wasn't there a saying that it's better to be safe then sorry?

When it came down to it, Ron could try to either remove the tracking spells, or buy another wand. Both options were expensive and illegal. There was a chance that if he had the tracking removed from his wand the ministry, a teacher or someone would notice. Especially since during the school year the students are doing spells all the time and even those spells registered. If his wand stopped registering all spells completely, then there was a possibility that someone could notice. And that would only lead to unwanted questions and crappy explanations.

Buying another wand was not a safe bet either. If Ron bought a new wand from a reputable shop, the wand would register his age and the owner would be required to place the tracking spells on it. This would obviously would be no help to Ron. Luckily though, he has at least some experience on where to go and who to contact in order to get an illegal wand.

So out of the two options, buying a second wand was really the best bet.

He slowly removed the galleons from the pouch and counted. As he drop each one back into the bag, couldn't help the smile that graced his face. Ron wasn't sure where Faith had gotten the money, but not only did she send him enough to pay for his wand and the bribes that went with it, but also for two others. Harry and Hermione would eventually need a second wand. Next time he saw his dark haired slayer he was going to kiss her. And then probably smack her for sending such a large amount of galleons through owl post. What in hell was she thinking?

As he dropped the last gold coin back into the velvet blue pouch, a voice broke his thoughts.

"Is that a cell phone?" Ron jumped slightly at Hermione's voice. He looked up to see her leaning on the doorframe staring at the mell next to him on the bed.

She must have heard his mum calling about the package and came to investigate.

His weight shifted as she took a seat next to him on the bed. Ron was painfully aware that she seemed to be sitting rather close. Close enough to for her thigh to be pressed against his. The thin material of his shorts didn't do much and he could practically feel her milky skin against his legs. Dear Lord, while he enjoyed the fact that they were spending time alone these past few days, it was really reeking havoc on his hormones. There had been far too much touching for Ron's liking. It was difficult to not to be able to respond with how his body wanted to react. While it might have been innocent for her - a touch on the arm there and a grabbing of the hand here - it was beginning to drive Ron crazy.

It was rather pathetic really. At his age, Ron should have much better control over himself. It was damn well frustrating how his body seemed to react which in turn made his mind react. Why can't he just get the two of them under control?

Ron swallowed rather loudly as he watched her examine the mell that she was now holding. He pressed down the need to want to hold her in his arms. That action would be pointless and most likely get him slapped.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he grabbed the discarded letter and put it into his pocket. Hopefully, she doesn't ask what's in the small pouch.

"Um, yeah it is," he answered about the phone even though it was obvious as to what it was. "I thought dad would like it."

She eyed him, and then shifted her gaze from the phone to the pouch that sat on the other side of him. Ron had a feeling that she didn't quite trust his answer.

"Who'd you get it from?" Hermione asked.

"Susan," he replied. "My cousin."

Hermione sighed and shifted her weight. "You mean Lara, right?"

Ron couldn't help the widening of his eyes that clearly showed he was caught. He was never good at lying to her. It was something that she always called him out on, especially in the future, but he could see that she was already recognizing the signs of it now.

"Oh please, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "It's rather obvious as to whom those letters from the past few months came from. I now just have a name to go with the mysterious person."

"Yeah, I guess so," Ron muttered.

"So why did she give you a cell phone?" Hermione asked as she flipped it open. "She has to know that these things don't work in Hogwarts."

"Oh, that's the genius of it," Ron replied knowing that Hermione would find this fascinating. "This one does. The Council has been using these for years. Considering that they operate in heavy magic areas and in remote places, they need a way to keep in touch that's reliable. They don't work quite the same as Muggle phones - you can't call just any phone number. These phones have to be connected to special network and can only call other phones also connected to that network. So, I couldn't call Harry at the Dursley's but I could call anyone else who has one of these phones."

Hermione listened to him as she explored the different functions of the phone. He thought about taking it away but he knew how much stuff like this fascinated her. As long as she didn't try to dial either number, she should be fine. Ron only wished that he could have offered her a better explanation on how it worked. Unfortunately, magical theory and technology had never been his forte.

"Isn't combining magic like this with Muggle technology illegal?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Only in the wizarding world and considering the Watcher's Council doesn't actually follow wizarding laws - it's a little grey."

Hermione nodded at him but he got the feeling that she was only half listening.

"Wow," she muttered. "The complex understanding of technology and magic that had to go into making this is incredible."

"Willow came up with the idea." Ron replied before he could realize what he just said. "I wish you could meet her - you would find her fascinating. She is practically a genius when it comes to spell manipulation and understanding construction. You two are practically unstoppable when you work together."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean you would be unstoppable if you were working together."

Smooth move there Ronald.

"You know what, I'd like to meet Lara again," Hermione said. "Now that we've turned over a new leaf in honesty, I think I would like to see what she has to say on the matter of the future."

Ron ran a hand through his hair unsure of how to answer the question.

"We'll see," Ron replied. "I can't promise you anything but I'll talk to her about it."

"Good."

-oOo-

"Ron!" His mum's voice flooded up from the floor below. "Are you about ready to leave? I have some things I need you to take with!"

Ron had decided yesterday after he had gotten the package, that a shopping trip was in order. Unfortunately, this was a shopping trip that was better if his mum knew nothing about it. So, last night at dinner, he had told her that he wanted to help the twins with their shop today.

His mum agreed that it would be good for him and allowed him to go but Hermione wasn't so easily convinced. From the glare alone that had been on her face, he knew that she hadn't been fooled for a second. Against his better judgment, he didn't argue with Hermione as she asked his mum if it was okay if she went as well instead of her original plans of weeding the garden with Ginny.

Ron shoved the velvet pouch which still contained the money into the back pocket of his trousers and slipped the mell into his front. He hurried out of his room and down the stairs to see that Hermione was already waiting for him.

"Now Ron," Molly said handing him a stack of papers and a basket full of what could only be food. "These are for Fred and George and I've also included something for you guys to eat for lunch. Now, don't go wondering around Diagon Alley - these are dangerous times."

Ron nodded.

"Thanks Molly," Hermione responded before asking, "Are we Flooing there?"

"Of course you are dear," Mum responded. "Twins had their fireplace hooked up the network a few weeks ago."

"Come on," Ron mumbled as he made way to the fireplace.

The Floo in the twins joke shop connected in their back room. The shop had just opened and Ron could already hear the sound of customers in the store. Hermione followed Ron out of the room and into the main part of the store. Fred was the first twin spotted. He directed them back into the storage room and pointed out various boxes that needed to be unpacked. Once they were done with that - they were told to stick the Weasley's logo onto a bunch of merchandise.

As soon as Fred left, Hermione practically jumped on Ron demanding answers.

"So, why are we really here?" she asked unable to contain her curiosity any longer. Hermione had never got the chance to ask about Ron's sudden decision to help the twins last night. It wasn't due to Ron avoiding her either, instead it had been just a mere coincidence. As it happened, once dinner was over they had been sequester by Ginny to play cards. After a round, mum and dad had joined in as well and the game hadn't ended until late in the night. Hermione and Ron hadn't even had time to do the second Occlumency session that they had planned on. Hermione had left him with a goodnight outside of his bedroom door saying that she'd visit him later that night once Ginny was asleep. Considering she had never showed up, Ron had a feeling that she had fallen asleep rather before Ginny. "Don't tell me it's to do such minuscule tasks as sorting merchandise when I know that you would much rather being doing yard work back at the Burrow."

"I need to pick up a few things that will help in aiding Lara," he said realizing that lying to Hermione wasn't going to work.

"I knew it!" Hermione replied rather excitedly.

"I figured I'd help the twins for awhile before taking care of what I need to get done," Ron said frowning at Hermione as he really did not want to take her with him. He was planning on taking a trip to Knockturn alley which wasn't a safe area; unfortunately, he couldn't tell her that - it would only make her want to come more. "It shouldn't take too long and I'm sure Fred and George would be fine if you waited here."

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"Wait here?" she grounded out. "Don't be daft. I'm coming with you."

"No," Ron rushed out. "You can't."

"Why, is it dangerous?" Hermione pushed. "Are you meeting with Lara again? Or are you doing something illegal?"

Hermione gave him a disapproving look and responded before he could even begin to formulate a reply. "You're going to have to start trusting us Ron. You can't keep lying to us! You've seen me; I'm getting the hang of Occlumency. Not to mention that you told Harry and I on the train back to London that things were going to be better between us. That you were going to clue us in on more now that the threat of Voldemort has lessened for a bit of time with the prophecy being destroyed. Well, now's the time to prove it! Or were you lying about that too?"

Ron ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Hermione was right - like always. He had said that on the train and at the time he had meant it. Hell, he still meant it now. It was as good as time as any to start actually showing that too.

He no longer could act like the naïve sixteen year old. No, the cat was out of the bag and they knew that he was very different. They knew that something had changed him drastically. Eventually the truth would come out. Ron was trying to delay it as much as possible but even he wasn't stupid. At one time he thought that he could keep all of it from them. That they didn't have to know about the horrible future that lay ahead. And while there was no way in hell he was going to tell them everything, he knew he had to prepare them. If anything, the Department of Mysteries had soundly pounded that much into his head.

"Okay," Ron reluctantly agreed. "Okay, but just promise me that you'll follow along with what I do and trust that I do know what I am doing."

Hermione flashed him a blinding smile and actually squeaked in excitement before she realized what she had done. With a clearing of her throat, she composed herself before answering.

"Fine then, I promise I'll do whatever is needed."

Ron was still a little uneasy despite her reassurances.

Ron and Hermione remained quiet as they went back to work. It wasn't until lunch time that that they were interrupted.

"How's it going back there?" One of the twins, George, stuck his head into the storage room. "Mum sent some lunch with you - right? I thought I saw you carrying something."

Ron stopped what he was doing and went to where he had set the basket down on the small table. "It's just some sandwiches, but you know mum - never one to let a Weasley go hungry."

"Or anyone else," Hermione added.

"Oh good," George said stepping all the way into the room and shutting the door behind him. "We've been running around all morning and I hated the thought of making lunch."

George grabbed a sandwich (roast beef with cheddar cheese) from Ron's hand and took a seat in one of the armchairs in the room.

"I figure," he said between bites, "I have about thirty minutes to eat before Fred comes in complaining that I'm taking too long for lunch and that he wants to eat too."

Ron nodded absentmindedly and handed a sandwich to Hermione before grabbing one for himself. After another bite, George realized that he seemed to be missing something and went over to the cooler against the wall. He tossed Ron and Hermione each a butterbeer from inside and grabbed one for himself. On his way back to his chair, he grabbed a second sandwich.

Ron eyed his brother as he sat back down. Thoughts of how he was going to phrase his next set of requests raced through his head. Ron could expect a few possible outcomes. George could say yes - probably requesting a small fee for his services or George could say yes, still ask for the fee and say that he wants to come with. Really, both of those were better then last option of George saying no. Ron hoped that his brother's sense of mischief and mayhem would overcome the urge to say no. Obviously, Ron wouldn't tell him about the legalities of what he was about to do, but George could probably figure it out for himself. At least Ron didn't have to worry about the twins informing their mum about this. Fred and George were many things, but snitches were not one of them.

"George," Ron began as he set his bottle of butterbeer down onto the small table next to him. George had finished his sandwich during the time Ron spent thinking and had already started on his second one. "I need a favor."

Hermione stopped mid-bite in her sandwich and looked at Ron. Excitement clearly shown in her eyes.

"A favor, aye?" George said with his mouth full of crumbs. "I'm not giving you any free samples if that's what you're after. You might be my favorite younger brother, but you're still a paying customer like everyone else."

"I need a glamour - full body," Ron said then added after a second thought. "Actually, I need two of them - one for Hermione as well."

"A glamour spell?" George said leaning back into his chair and setting down his sandwich. He gave Ron a curious look. "And why does my little brother need a glamour spell?"

Of course George would assume that Ron meant he needed a glamour in spell form. But, what he didn't know was that Ron knew that his brothers were developing something much more efficient. The problem with full body glamour spells is that they are not the easiest to maintain. They tended to have short life spans depending on the amount of power the wizard puts into the spell. Unlike simple, small glamour spells that could last for days if they were strong enough, full body glamours took a lot of energy and concentration to cast. After all, one needed to completely visualize and create an image of an entirely different person. Making it realistic was difficult enough as the mind tended to skip over simple details while developing what the person should look like. It was the details that made the illusion believable. The stronger the wizard, the longer the spell would last. Most of the time though, they wouldn't last for more then an hour and a half, which was not enough time for Ron.

No, what Ron needed was one of the twins inventions. The twins had developed a glamour spell in pill form. It lasted far longer then a normal spell due to the spell being attached to an object. Like Muggle medicine, the spell wouldn't wear off until the pill had been fully expended through the blood stream. The twins had gotten the effect to last for five hours. They had started experimenting with spell modification on glamours back in their fourth year at Hogwarts. If Ron remembered correctly, they had been caught doing some sort of prank by Filch when their glamours had worn off. It had been then that they decided that a better option was needed in the name of pranking. The pill was not as effective as Willow's illusion necklaces, but they were still damn good.

"No, not a spell," Ron replied. "I need one that will last a little longer."

"But Ron," Hermione interjected. "Glamours usually last for about a hour - hour and a half at the most. George couldn't possibly cast something like that…no offense George."

"None taken," George waved his hand nonchalantly. "When you're right Hermione, you're right and usually have very little tact in saying so."

"Have you tested the pill yet?" Ron bluntly asked. If it didn't work yet, then Ron would have to chance another plan or ask George to cast the spell and be quick about his shopping. Ron had thought about casting the spell on himself but considering the Ministry would then be informed that idea was quickly vetoed by his own mind.

George's almost choked on his butterbeer at Ron's words. Ron could tell that he definitely knew what Ron was referring to, making the connection between glamour spells and pills right away.

"Well?" Ron pushed when it was clear that George wasn't going to answer him. "Have you?"

"How do you know about that?" George asked as he set his butterbeer on the table next to his sandwich.

"It doesn't matter," Ron replied. "Does it work? If so, I am willing to buy it off of you."

"You couldn't afford it," George answered. "And yes, it does work."

"What pill?" Hermione asked. "What are you two talking about?"

"Hermione," Ron said turning to her, "we can talk about this later."

Hermione huffed and glared a little but ended up sinking back into her chair.

"How much?" Ron asked turning back to George.

George gave him a calculating look. He was probably debating if it was really his brother sitting in front of him and how he could possibly know about the pills. Whatever George decided on though, it must have been in Ron's favor.

"Twenty-one galleons per pill. And believe me, that's a deal because you're my brother and I don't think you can afford it anyway." George leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his butterbeer waiting for Ron's answer.

Hermione's eyes widened at the price. She turned to Ron - her face saying that there's no way that they could afford that.

Giving Hermione what he thought was a reassuring smile; he took a quick second to take count of how much money he had with him. Even with the price of the pills, they would definitely have enough to purchase his and Hermione's wands today but it might make them a little short when it came to time to get Harry's new wand. It looked like Ron was just going to have to ask Faith for some more money when that time comes. Knowing her, she'd probably make him work it off or something ridiculous for needing the extra.

"Sorry Ron," George said obviously taking Ron's silence as there was no way his brother had that type of money. "I can't just give them to you. They are rather spendy to make. I can't just give the things away -"

"Deal," Ron said before George had the chance to finish his sentence.

Ron reached into his pockets as he watched George's face go into a look of almost shock. After all, it was practically unheard of for a Weasley to have that large of amount of money. He pulled out the dark blue coin purse that Faith had sent him and counted out the forty-two galleons needed, placing them on the side table next to George. If possible, his brother's expression looked even more surprised.

After taking a moment to examine the gold (like every good business man does), George asked, "Where did you get this money? I know that mum does not pay this much for housework."

"From Harry," the lie came off easy. Harry was the only one that his family knew of who would have had a large enough fortune that he would spend it freely. Ron had only hoped that Hermione would keep her mouth shut. "We want to be prepared for the war - just like you. And since Harry is stuck at the Dursleys and can't be here, he asked us to go shopping for him. We'd rather not have people see some of the purchases we are making."

Hermione gave Ron a quick glance before nodding to George in agreement. George was quiet for a few minutes as he turned one of the coins around in his fingers.

"I expect you want it now?" George asked. "Of course you want it now, it wouldn't do you much good if you had mum or dad with you, and considering the state of the wizarding world, they're hardly going to let you do any type of shopping by yourselves."

"It'll take us three hours at the most," Ron said knowing very well that the glamour effect lasted longer.

"Well, there's no counter so you'll be staying in that form for at least five hours," George replied. "If I were you, I wouldn't come back to the shop until then. If mum stops by asking where you were, I'll tell her that you must have snuck out the back."

George got up and walked over to a large hideous painting of him and Fred on the wall. With a wave of his hand, the image disappeared to reveal a safe beneath. The safe must have been locked into the twin's magic because with a second wave of George's hand it clicked open.

Ron tried to peer into the safe but couldn't really tell what was in there. If he had to guess at what it contained, he would say that it was inventions, notes and other objects that were a bit more on the questionable side of the law. Especially since there was another safe in plain view which probably contained all of the less important - law abiding items.

George removed a small bottle of what looked like Muggle aspirin from the safe. He took out two pills before closing the door and with another wave of his hand, the painting was back in place.

"Take them after you're done eating," George said handing them to Ron. "They're more effective with food in your stomach."

"How do they work?" Hermione asked.

"These ones are really only our first draft. Since it's easier to make them in mass quantity, we gave them all the same basic glamour effects. This batch will give you black hair and turn your skin an olive hue. Gives you brown eyes and makes your nose a little larger then it already is. It also gives you a round face," George explained. "After taking them, you and Ron will look similar, but not the same. Eventually we hope to manufacture a bunch of bottles each with a different ethnic group. "

Ron handed the pill to Hermione who looked at it almost as if it would bite her. Probably not sure of how trustworthy an invention of the twins would be.

"You'll be fine," Ron told her, "trust me."

Ron plopped the pill onto his tongue and swallowed with a swig of butterbeer.

"The effects will start to show in about 5 minutes," George said watching them.

Hermione frowned at Ron and put the pill into her own mouth swallowing the same way as he.

"What will you tell Fred?" Hermione asked placing her butterbeer on the table.

"The truth and that you'll be by later this week to make up all of the work you're skiving out of."

"Fair enough," Hermione said before turning her attention to Ron.

He could feel her eyes on him, most likely waiting for the glamour to start to take hold.

The only indication that the magic was taking effect was the slight tingling sensation on his skin. It lasted for about ten seconds. George conjured a mirror without Ron needing to ask and handed it to him.

The pill did exactly what George said it would do. He was now a dark haired teen with dark eyes. The changes to his face and nose were more then enough to make him unrecognizable.

A small gasp from his right indicated that the spell was starting to take effect on Hermione. He looked over at her as the illusion set into place. Her hair was a darker brown and no longer bushy. He briefly wondered why it was no longer bushy but didn't bother to ask. The face and nose had a similar appearance to his. Overall, they looked like they could now be cousins, brother and sister maybe.

He handed her the mirror knowing that she would want to see this too.

"Wow," she muttered as she looked at herself. "This is amazing George."

"Thank you Hermione, but I already know that," George said taking a moment to examine his handy work. "If I were you, I'd leave out of the door that goes to the alleyway. Be careful and make sure that you change back somewhere where it's only the two of you. You have five hours. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

George picked up his bottle of butterbeer and walked back out into the main part of the shop, no doubt to tell Fred that he can go get something to eat now. Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and lead her out of the building through the backdoor. He opened it slowly and looked both ways before stepping out. Thankfully, there was nobody in the vicinity to see them.

As they walked out into the alley, Ron took a moment to look at what they were wearing. Considering the illusion only changed the appearance of their bodies, their clothes had remained the same. He had planned on this and had worn a brown short sleeve shirt with a pair of dark trousers - something that wouldn't stand out in Knockturn Alley. Thankfully, Hermione looked average as well. She also wore a short sleeved shirt, only hers was blue, and a pair of light jeans. He had briefly considered bringing black cloaks with them but the weather was so warm right now that normally only Ministry officials and business men bothered to do so in the summer. At least some aspects of Muggle fashion were coming into the wizarding world so they didn't look too out of place.

Hermione remained silent as they walked. She was no doubt wondering where they were going.

"Call me John McClane," Ron finally said as they neared the Ministry of Magic. Ron could see a large crowd had gathered outside. He briefly wondered what was going on only to have Hermione's voice interrupt his thoughts.

"Um, well then John," she said, "I guess you can call me Anna….wait no, call me Nicole."

"Is there a last name to go with it?" he asked.

She huffed, "Seriously? I suppose it will be…. Smith?"

Ron opened his mouth to respond only to stop as he saw something past her. There, on the steps of the Ministry stood Faith next to Mr. Giles, Buffy and some guys he didn't recognize in business suits. Oh Merlin, how could he forget about Faith's hearing today? It looked like one of the guys he didn't recognize in the business suit was addressing the audience. Without even a thought to Hermione, he jogged over to stand with the gathering crowd.

"Ron…John…Wait where are you going?" she called after him.

Ron pushed his way through some of the crowd until he couldn't get any closer. He could vaguely hear Hermione behind him trying to push through as well.

By the time he could focus on the press conference, the guy in the business suit had passed the microphone to Mr. Giles.

"What are you -"

"Shhh," Ron hushed her without looking in her direction. In the back of his mind he was sure he was going to pay for it later.

"I would like to thank the co-operation and understanding of the Ministry of Magic, Wizengamot and the Wizarding society in bringing this matter to an end. The Watcher's Council hopes that this is only the beginning of a new era of communication between our two organizations. We have much that we can accomplish together. Thank you."

"They're from the Watcher's Council?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice next to him. Ron looked over to see that Hermione had turned her attention to studying the people on the steps. Ron shifted uncomfortably as he realized that she had seen Faith before when her and Harry had followed him that night to Hogsmeade. Hopefully, they were too far away form Faith to recognize the slayer. Ron wasn't quite sure if he was ready to be explaining Faith just yet.

"Yeah," Ron said and turned back to watch as Faith shook the hands of a bunch of Wizengamot members. Dumbledore was standing up there as well and speaking a few words with Giles.

Hermione noticed this as well.

"Who is Dumbledore talking to?" she asked.

"Rupert Giles," he replied.

"The Rupert Giles?" she asked a little louder then she intended to. A few people looked her way causing her to look sheepishly towards the ground. She leaned closer to his ear. "As in the head of the Watcher's Council, that Rupert Giles?"

Ron nodded in agreement.

"What is he doing here giving a press conference on the Ministry steps?"

It was evident to Ron that the conference was over by the press shouting questions and none of them being answered. Ron took a long look at Faith. She looked very uncomfortable in the black suit she was wearing but she also looked relieved. That, along with Giles' end comments meant that it probably went in her favor.

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and led her back out of the crowd.

"Haven't you been reading the Daily Prophet lately?" Ron asked as they reached the end of the crowd.

"No, I cancelled my subscription," she answered. "With all of the talk about You Know Who I didn't want my parents reading about it. I'm afraid of what they might due to keep me safe."

"It's been all over the Prophet," Ron explained. "Faith, the dark haired woman on the steps next to Giles had been wanted by the Muggle government a few years back. She was declared a fugitive in both the Muggle and Wizarding societies due to her status within the council."

"She's a slayer, right?" Hermione asked. "I think I remember that."

"Yes, she's a slayer," Ron answered. "Anyway, due to the Council being an active presence in London and that Faith had relocated here, they thought it was a good idea for her name to be cleared in Wizarding society. The Muggle government had already cleared her name of wrongdoing. The Council is going through some major reorganization right now and it's important to have this new Council be in good graces with the Ministry of Magic."

"Huh," Hermione thought.

"I bet I have a copy of the Daily Prophet that talks all about it if you want to read it when we get back to my place."

"I think I would," she replied evidently still thinking about it.

They walked a few more yard before Hermione snapped out of her thoughts.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked.

"We need second wands," he finally replied after making sure there was no one in listening distance. "Ones without the Ministry tracking spells."

Hermione faltered in her steps before coming completely to a stop.

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed as if she didn't hear him right. Ron stopped a turned around. Hermione walked up to his face and within mere inches whispered, "Isn't that illegal?"

"Yes," Ron simply replied.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Sure she was used to them doing things that weren't quite legal before, but this was different. It had always been to save someone - or to right a wrong - or to stop Voldemort. This time it was apparent that it was just flat out illegal. Hermione looked like she was about to argue. Even with the glamour on her Ron could still read her features

He tried not to laugh at her as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"If we fight with our wands now - anytime we're not in school, we risk expulsion. Or even worse, having them snapped," he said keeping his voice low. He had a feeling that she already knew this, but a little reinforcement wouldn't hurt. "Believe me when I say that we do not want the Ministry knowing what we will be doing this summer."

Hermione looked at him for what seemed like a long time.

"Fair enough," she finally replied and stepped back away from him. "So where are we off to? Ollivander's I suppose?"

Ollivander's shop was across the street from them and she took a step in that direction.

"No," Ron replied barely registering that his voice was laced with venom at the mention of Ollivander. Hermione had noticed though judging by the startled look she was giving him.

Ron stepped up to her once again and pulled her close.

"Promise me," he practically whispered. "That you will stay clear from that man."

"What?"

"Promise me Hermione," he reiterated. "He works with You Know Who."

"What?" she almost yelled then realized just how loud she was. Ron hadn't planning to tell that but he couldn't stop himself. Ollivander was dangerous. In fact, he was one of the most dangerous people, next to the Dark Lord, that they had to fight. The only contact that Ron wanted with the man was to kick his arse. "Are you positive?"

"I'm positive."

"But…" she was at a loss for words alternating looks between the wand shop and Ron. "But…seriously?"

Ron nodded.

"But I had always thought that he was neutral? You know, not taking sides. I mean, yeah - he's a little intense and creepy but….are you sure?"

"Believe me, he has picked a side and it is not ours."

Hermione did her best impression of a fish as his words sunk in.

"You've seen it?" she tentatively asked.

"I have," he answered. Ron wasn't sure if Ollivander had been with Voldemort for the first war back before Ron was born. However, he did know that one of Voldemort's goals had been to reach out to the demon population and Ron wouldn't have been surprised if Ollivander had been one for the first he had courted. Ollivander was a demon or half demon, or something like that. In all honesty, Ron didn't know much about the man other then he wasn't all human. He was old and powerful and had been selling wands for centuries. Ron wasn't sure what the Dark Lord had personally promised Ollivander in order to have him come the dark side, but the consequences of it had been devastating. Ollivander was a genius when it came to magic theory, it was part of the reason he made such excellent quality of wands. Let's just say that Ollivander's genius wasn't used to make anything good while he worked with Voldemort. Between the experiments he ran on anyone who opposed Voldemort, to the weapons he made - everyone had learned to stay as far away from the man as possible.

"How dangerous is he?" Hermione must have seen something in his eyes.

"Very."

"Can't we do anything then? I don't know, tell someone maybe?"

"Maybe," Ron answered as he turned his gaze to the shop. Just looking at it made his skin crawl. He hated thinking about Ollivander. That vile man tended to make him angry and reckless. He also tended to bring up memories that Ron would rather not deal with. He had no idea how Faith was dealing with her issues with the man. They had even more bad blood between the two of them then Ron could even begin to understand. In fact, even now, it wasn't something that he like to think about. "Come on."

Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction that they needed to go. She hesitated for only a second before Ron roughly pulled her into Knockturn Alley. Ron's entire demeanor changed as he stepped into the alley. People would notice him less if he walked around like he was meant to be here. Turning around, he noticed that Hermione wasn't doing as good as job as he was at acting like they belonged. He pulled her even closer and looped her arm around his.

"Relax," he whispered into her ear. "Just pretend like you belong here and no one will question you. If you start acting like a scared teenager then you will be noticed. Look around and tell me who sticks our the most."

Ron paused as he let Hermione take in her surroundings.

"The ones slinking around and trying to hide in the shadows," she quietly replied.

"Exactly."

He leaned away and released her arm. Hermione gave him a single nod before rearranging her expression to resemble Pansy Parkinson's haughty face.

She walked only a step or so behind him as he led the way. Their destination was a shop in Knockturn Alley that sold a variety of things, one of those things being illegal wands. Mr. Higgins, the owner, had tried setting up a legitimate wand shop twenty years ago or so but due to the quality of Ollivander's wands, it couldn't stay in business. Mr. Higgins continued to make them though and sold them under the counter.

If a wizard had their wand snapped by the Ministry, then they are not supposed to own an other wand. It is up to the wand shops to enforce this law. Legal wand shops keep a list of those who have been banned from owning a wand and are accountable if a banned name has a wand that can be traced back to the shop. The owners are also supposed to record everyone who buys a wand and what wand they buy. Mr. Higgins doesn't do any of these things and sells to whoever wants to buy. He also, does not put the tracking spell on his wands sold to underage wizards. The Ministry of Magic had raided Mr. Higgins before for illegal distribution of wands but they had never found anything that could be used against him.

While Mr. Higgins' wands weren't as high quality as Ollivander's (there was a reason that everyone bought wands from that _man_) they still were of good quality. In the future, Mr. Higgins didn't care what side his buyers were on. His neutrality had lasted for a few years too before the SAWC got to him. They had left him in business but the Order learned the hard way that he now reported to Voldemort. From then on Bill and George had taken up making wands for the resistance. It was rocky at first to say the least. After George had died, Bill had made the wands by himself. They worked, but never as well as the ones made by a professional.

Ron spotted the small shop on the other side of the street and led the way. Hermione's shoes clicked on the cobblestone street as she followed. Opening the door, the jingle of a bell signaled to the owner of their entrance. Ron stepped inside and looked around to quickly notice a few changes from what he remembered. Hopefully though, the protocol for buying the wands hadn't changed over the years.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Higgins asked stepping out from one of the rows of shelves.

"Certainly," Ron replied. "I was wondering if you had any Chocolate Frog cards for sale? The lady and I have been searching for a rare set and I heard you were the man to come to for rare things."

Mr. Higgins eyed both of them. Ron silently prayed that that was still the opening dialogue to get the business of buying a wand started.

"You do realize that Mr. Wuggenski's Toy Wonderforum is a better place to check," Higgins replied.

Ron smiled.

"True, but no one sells as high quality merchandise as yourself and as I have no love for children or toys, your place is far superior."

"Giselda!" Mr. Higgins yelled towards the back. A scrawny woman with long dark hair appeared. "Please watch the front as I help the guests."

Mr. Higgins led the way into a back room. Ron followed with Hermione close behind. As soon as Ron stepped through the door, the familiar tingle of a ward going up surrounded them. It was a ward that he recognized from personal usage. The ward alerted the caster if the people passing through it had ill intentions towards the one who cast it. Ron had heard that if one had triggered Mr. Higgins ward he would actually lead you to a room full of Chocolate Frog cards. Instead, Mr. Higgins led Ron through semi-familiar halls and out through a back door into the alley behind the store. He tapped his wand in a sequence much like one had to do in order to enter Diagon Alley and a door appeared.

"This way then," Mr. Higgins stepped aside, letting Ron and Hermione enter first. Once all three of them were in, the door slammed shut. Shelves of wands lined the walls and if possible, it was even more cluttered then Ollivander's shop. "You said both you and the lady need one, correct?"

"Yes," Ron replied. "You can call me Mr. McClane, John if you like and this is Ms. Nicole Smith."

"Pleasure to meet you," Higgins gruffly replied to Ron making it clear by the sound of his voice that he didn't believe that was their real names. "Might as well start with you. Hold out you're wand arm please."

Ron held out his wand arm as asked. The motions were very similar to what Ollivander did. There was measuring of various body parts and some muttering as he pulled different wands off of the shelf and handed them to Ron. Ron waved wand after wand only to have them be snatched away and replaced with another one. It wasn't until the fifteenth wand or so that Ron felt the familiar rush of power associated with a good match.

Mr. Higgins' picked up the box and read the label on it.

"Fourteen and half inches - Yew with a Gurt Wolf hair core," he read off of the box and set it down on the counter. "Unfortunately, that's going to cost you a pretty knutt that one is. Gurt Wolf hair is not easy to come by."

Ron nodded. "That won't be a problem."

Mr. Higgins smiled and motioned for Hermione to hold out her arms.

She managed to look slightly affronted as she was measured, playing her part perfectly. Her wand fitting lasted a little long but not by much. Ron could tell instantly but the surprised 'oh' on her face when she held the right wand.

"Ah," Mr. Higgins said. "A smart one we have here. Twelve and a quarter inches - Hazelwood with a crow feather core."

Mr. Higgins snagged Hermione's wand back and gently placed it in the appropriate box. He went back behind his desk and scribbled some numbers onto a piece of parchment has he ran the pricing calculations.

"It'll be thirty-two Galleons for the two of them," Ron nodded. It was quite a mark up considering the average cost per wand was about seven Galleons at Ollivanders. But, the extra was definitely for keeping Mr. Higgins mouth shut and the mere fact these wands were under the counter.

"Deal, but toss in two combat grade wand arm-holsters as well," Ron replied.

Mr. Higgins gave a quick nod in agreement and placed the boxed up wands into a cloth bag. Ron and Hermione followed him out of the wand room and back into the main store. Once they were back to the front desk, Mr. Higgins reached under the counter and pulled out one of the wand holsters. Ron gave it a quick examination to confirm that it wasn't one of the cheaper brands.

"Perfect," Ron handed the holster back to Mr. Higgins who in return put it, and another one into the cloth bag.

Ron smiled and handed the man his money.

"Thank you Mr. Higgins," Ron replied grabbing the bag off of the counter. "I have a feeling that I will visit your establishment again in the future."

As Ron made his way towards the door, he could her Hermione behind him sneering, "It's been a pleasure."

Once outside, Ron took glance at a street-side clock. It looked like that about two and a half hours had passed since they left. They still had at least another two hours to kill before the pill's effects wore off.

Hermione walked up next to him and together they made their way out of Knockturn Alley.

"Now what?" Hermione asked as they reached Diagon Alley.

Ron shrugged, what he really wanted to do was go somewhere where he could try out his new wand. He mentally took stock of his options trying to figure out if there was some place they could go without being disturbed. They could probably Floo somewhere that had plenty of open woods near by.

"Come on," Ron said as he had an idea of just where they could go. He made way over to where he knew a public Floo was open. Hermione followed remaining silent, probably wondering to herself where they were going. Her eyes widened a bit as they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

"You want to get some butterbeer?" she asked.

"No," Ron replied stepping into the door. "I want to go somewhere we can try out our new purchases and what better place then some of the open country side around Hogsmeade."

"That's actually a good idea," she responded and followed after him. "The Three Broomsticks has an open Floo right?"

"Yep, most of the taverns do to encourage costumers business," Ron led the way to the fireplace, gave a small courtesy fee to Tom, and requested the Floo powder. While Flooing was free - it was common to tip for the service, which helped in the purchasing of Floo powder.

"The Three Broomsticks," he enunciated and stepped through the green flames. The Three Broomsticks wasn't quite as busy as the Leaky Cauldron but there were still a handful of customers about.

Ron stepped away from the fireplace knowing that Hermione would be following soon after. Once Hermione was through, the two continued out into the streets and started to head towards the sprawling forest that separated Hogsmeade from Hogwarts. Thankfully, this forest was not part of the Forbidden Forest where the more questionable creatures lived. They had explored the forest often on their many trips to Hogsmeade and visits to the Shrieking Shack. Hermione must have had an idea of to where he had envisioned as she jogged slightly in front of him, no doubt as excited as he to try out the new wand.

"So, how do you know we can't be tracked by the ministry with these wands?" she asked as they walked.

"Well, in a legal shop like Ollivander's, the Ministry requires him to place the tracking charm on each wand he makes. This charms registers the age of who it bonds with and activates if the owner is underage. There are hefty fees to pay if Ollivander is caught selling wands without the tracking spell. Ollivander is also supposed to keep a record of all buyers of his wands open to the Ministry.'

'Mr. Higgins doesn't keep any register of his wands nor does he report what he sells to the ministry. He sells to whoever wants to buy whether criminal or underage - like us. It's why his shop is considered illegal and why he charges so much more for them."

They soon came to a clearing with a small pond nestled along the edge of the tree line. Ron reached inside the bag that Mr. Higgins had given him and removed the wand holsters first. He tossed one to Hermione.

It took only a few minutes to show her how to put it on. Unfortunately, due to the fact that they were both wearing short sleeve shirts, they would have to be removed again once they headed back into town.

"The wand slips into the holster here," he said pointing out a grove in the leather. "In order to release the mechanism to fire the wand, you focus your magic on the inside of your wrist. You don't need much and it's easy to get the hang of once you've done it a few times. Just, make sure you're ready to grab the wand once it springs out. You might want to give it a few practice runs though."

Hermione smiled. "I think I can handle that, but the holster can wait. What I'm more excited about right now is this new wand."

Ron watched as she started transfiguring random rocks and branches into various objects. She had a large smile on her face as she moved on to casting shields and shooting off spells. After watching her for much longer then necessary, he decided that it was about time for him to do the same. First, he started out transfiguring rocks into rats and moved on to shooting cutting hexes at targets he envisioned on various trees.

Overall, he was very proud of the way his new wand handled. It almost seemed better matched with him then his current one. That was probably because his magic had gone through such a change and his old wand hadn't adapted to it yet.

Ron turned back to Hermione and saw that she had moved on to playing with how the holster worked. Taking his advice for once, she was testing how to channel her magic into the release mechanism and how to catch the wand. He resisted the urge to shake his head at her; she wasn't even paying attention to her surroundings.

Ron grinned and sent a light tickling charm her way.

She fell to the ground in a fit of laughter.

"That's dirty," she managed to get out between laughs.

Ron snickered as she laid on the grass giggling like one of those silly schoolgirls that Hermione made fun of often. She reacted quickly though, canceling the tickling charm and sending a cold spray of water at him.

Ron let out a very unmanly yelp as the cold water instantly soaked through his shirt.

"That's how you want to play, eh?" Ron replied as he let off a cold water jet of his own. She easily waved her wand sending it off to her right. He quickly changed tactics before she had a chance to respond. He levitated some of the water out of the pond behind her and sent it into her back. She let out a yelp of her own.

"Ronald Weasley!" she yelled and sent another spell at him.

Forty minutes later, the illusion pills had worn off and they both could see the damage that they had done. Not only were they were both sopping wet (which was visible even under the effects of the pills) but Hermione also had brilliant blue hair while Ron had a green mustache that was not there before. His body and cloths were also streaked with green making it look like he got in a fight with a bucket of paint. Much to his pride, Hermione was much more colorful then he was. Pink and purple stars littered her face making her look like some kind of rocker reject.

Ron picked up a branch and transfigured it into a mirror. He frowned at the sight of the green mustache. The combination of it with his red hair was jarring to say the least. He muttered the counter-charm to the mustache and could feel the tingle of it disappearing. Hermione laughed at him as he ran a finger over his now hairless lip.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I was you," he replied tossing her the mirror.

She let out a gasp as she caught sight of her face.

He responded as anyone else would, in a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

He was still laughing as Hermione tackled him (yes - an actual very un-lady like tackle, though if you ask her about it later she would deny the entire thing) into the mud. In fact, he was still laughing as she grabbed a handful of mud and grass and stuck it in his face (she would deny that as well). Ron retaliated the only way a man would when if a girl was sitting on him and shoving mud into his face. His hands found her waist and he tickled her sides. Ironic, as this was how their spat had started in the first place.

She laughed, squirmed, and tried to escape his grasp. But, what Hermione didn't know was that Ron had plenty of practice in the art of tickling due to having many siblings. Unfortuantly for her, he was far more experienced in tickling when he was doing it with his own hands and not a spell.

It wasn't until minutes later, that Ron realized exactly what position he had put them in. He had flipped their bodies with Hermione now trapped below him. _Dear Merlin_, she was wiggling beneath him covered in mud and in a tee shirt that was very wet. It was clinging to her chest exposing the slightly darker pattern of her bar underneath. Ron's fingers abruptly stopped and he tore his eyes away from her chest and to her face. Her eyes were closed and she fought to control her breathing.

She was gorgeous. It didn't matter that she was still covered in multi-colored stars.

The pain of just how much Ron had missed her hit him hard. The way she tasted and how she made him feel. The sounds she had made at night when they were together had often haunted his dreams. The ache had always resurfaced when he would wake up only to realize that she was not besides him. Seeing her again was both a blessing and torture. Having to control himself, having to refrain from her was almost too much these past months.

Hermione had always been who he confided in, she practically knew him better then he knew himself. Seeing her but not having her had been becoming more difficult by the day. He longed for her support and her understanding.

Before Ron's brain caught up with his actions, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

His lips were slow and gentle as he savored her taste. It had been a long time - years, but he still remembered the sweet flavor of her lips. No other women in his life had tasted like her. Ron lost himself in his emotions; having been so guarded these past few months that it felt freeing to not think so much for once. He lost himself in Hermione, while her lips hesitant at first, quickly responded positively.

It was almost like she had never left.

Ron's tongue swept the inside of her mouth and she arched her back in response. His arms that had been supporting his weight moved so that he was leaning on his left side. His other hand traced her jaw line lightly and continued its path down her neck and onto her collarbone. Her skin was soft and slicked with mud. Hermione moaned against his mouth and started to trace her own patterns with her fingers onto his back.

Ron had always liked it when she moaned.

His hand continued lower onto her stomach. Her shirt had bunched up beneath her breasts revealing smooth skin underneath his fingertips.

Pulling his mouth away from hers, Ron moved to her neck. His body shifted as he gave her a quick nip. She let out a sharp intake of breathe, a sound that went straight to his groin. Hermione tended to like a little pain intermixed with her pleasure. It was something that they had discovered they had in common. He placed a kiss where he had just nipped and tasted a little mud but mostly her.

He inhaled; sweet Merlin, she smelt wonderful.

Ron's hand ventured a little higher. It slipped underneath her shirt and sideways into her bra. He pinched her nipple and shifted his weight again, moving lower so his face was between her breasts. Using his free hand, he pulled her shirt up and pushed her breast free from her bra. He kissed her breast lightly, becoming more bold in his explorations as the minutes passed.

Hermione let out an even louder moan as Ron's mouth enclosed her nipple and he lightly raked his teeth against it. Her heavy breathing only fueled him on. All he wanted was to rile her more up, to make her utter even more moans. He liked it when she lost control. While Ron's mouth continued the ministrations to her nipple, Hermione intertwined one of her hands into his hair pulling him even closer to her.

He slid over to one side of her never letting his mouth leave her breast. His right hand moved back to her stomach. It traced small, incoherent patterns and continued to slowly move lower.

"Ron," Hermione moaned breathlessly as his hand started fiddling with the button of her jeans. He felt the release of the button slipping out of the hole and moved lower to unzip.

"Ron," she said a little louder this time as his hand ghosted over the top of her underwear. He applied a little pressure to the right spot and rubbed. This time, the sound that came out of Hermione was very loud and exactly what he wanted to hear. He rubbed again to be rewarded with another exclamation.

He removed his mouth from her breast and started trailing kisses down to her stomach. His hand lingered for a few more seconds before tugging on the waistband of her jeans bringing them lower onto her hips.

"Ron," Hermione said again more urgent then the last time. "What are you doing?"

Ron's mouth froze on her stomach as her realized that there was fear laced with the lust in her voice. He looked up to see her gazing intently at him with an unsure, almost fearful., look on her face. That's when it hit Ron that perhaps he shouldn't have done that. Actually, he probably shouldn't have kissed her in the first place.

He quickly scrambled away from her. So quick that he slid onto his backside into the mud when he tried to stand.

His eyes took in her disarray of cloths and the fact that she still had one breast very much out in the open. The taste of her nipple still lingered on his lips. Oh, Merlin…. He really shouldn't have done that.

"Fuck," he muttered as he watched Hermione's eyes trail down his body and rest on the rather large bulge that was very noticeable in his pants.

He had a feeling that he made a very big mistake.


	16. Human Nature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

**A/N: **Hi everyone! There has been changes from the books concerning Horcruxes. The changes though, you will find out soon enough. I had started mapping and writing the fic before the seventh book came out. Just wanted you to be aware. Enjoy!

* * *

**Mein Teil **

Chapter 15: Human Nature

* * *

Who knew that Ron could kiss like that?

Well, certainly not Hermione that was for sure.

It had been two days ago and Hermione was still thinking about _the incident_. That's what she had started calling it in her mind because calling it a kiss didn't do it justice. No, no - they certainly did more then just kiss - or at least Ron did. She had just kind of laid there and enjoyed it. Not next time though, next time she would be more responsive.

Wait a minute! What was she thinking?

She doesn't even want there to be a next time…does she?

Dear Lord, what was she thinking?

Hermione was at a conundrum and no amount of analyzing the situation seemed to be doing her any good. It didn't stop her from continuing to think about it though. After all, _the incident_ was definitely pleasant. Oh - who was she kidding, it had been far more then pleasant! It had been like her entire body was on fire. Ron had sent tingles through her body that she never even imagined were possible.

Merlin, even Viktor (who she had snogged thoroughly a few times last year) had never made her feel like that. Viktor had never been quite as bold in his ministration either. He had always seemed tentative; touching her as if she might break. While her experiences with Viktor last year had been pleasant, it hadn't been close to the euphoria that Ron had released in her.

Damn Ronald Weasley!

Ron had practically undressed her. He had been kissing body parts that he had no right to be kissing - and he had been touching where he definitely didn't have permission to be touching! While Hermione might have wondered from time to time what that experience would be like (sometimes even Ron played a part in her analyzing) it would have been quite some time before she would have been okay with Ron being an active participant.

Hermione was not some harlot like a few of the girls in her dormitory. No, she had always been a practical girl who had approached sex like she did with almost every other subject she conquered in life. There had been some researching, and analyzing followed by a trial period of small steps. Eventually, when she had done all the research and drawn all the conclusions that she needed, she would try it in a controlled environment.

It aggravated her to no end that her plan was shot to hell because of Ronald Weasley!

Stupid Ron and his ability to make her feel like that.

How dare he even think for a second that she would be okay being pawed like some trollop?

Hermione grumbled at her circular thoughts and turned over to her other side. Unfortunately, she didn't think that the change in positions would help her sleep at all tonight. She resisted the urge to punch her pillow.

How did Ron even learn to kiss like that?

It seemed that not to long ago he had been a fourth year boy that couldn't even ask her properly to the Yule Ball. Granted, she spent a lot of fourth year being mad at Ron, and some of fifth year as well - but she hadn't been _that_ blind. Surely she would have noticed if Ron was sneaking around the castle snogging some tart….Right? One does not go from a gangly, awkward teenager to a sex god in less then a year. It doesn't happen!

Not that she thought of Ron as a sex god or anything.

_Absolutely not!_

Then again - Ron had gone through some drastic changes this past year.

It's not like Hermione had forgotten about Ron's strange visions months ago. Nor had she forgotten the fact that he practically had a mental breakdown. There was also the fact that she hadn't forgotten that he had been keeping a lot of secrets from her and Harry. It's just that, how can having knowledge of women be thrown into that category? It's not like he had visions of pleasuring her and sex…..did he?

Hermione's cheeks flushed at the thought.

Was it just her or was it rather hot for a June night?

Oh Merlin, when had everything turned into such a mess?

After _the incident_, Ron had then proceeded to practically sprint out of the woods and back to Fred and George's shop. Hermione had started after him to only realize that he was much faster then she was. Looking back at it now, it must have been all of the running that he had be doing around the Quidditch pitch in the mornings. Instead of tiring herself out chasing after him, she had taken her time to walk back and to analyze what exactly had just happened. Actually, first she had cleaned the mud and had cancelled the charms on her so she looked like a normal person again; then she had gone back.

By the time she had gotten back to the twins shop, Ron had already Flooed home. Of course Fred and George had been practically foaming at the mouth trying to figure out where they had been, but she had easily ignored them and went back to the Burrow.

From then on, Ron had barely said a few words to her.

The past two days had been beyond awkward.

Ginny was suspicious and had been trying to pry out of Hermione what exactly had happened since she the day of _the incident. _Hermione hadn't said anything yet - but she honesty doesn't exactly know what happened herself. Granted, she hadn't exactly confronted Ron yet either as that was not a conversation that she was looking forward to having.

Why can't life be simple for once?

Hermione took a quick glance at the clock to see that it was near 1:30 AM. Groaning, she flipped onto her back. She had been lying there since eleven trying to sleep. It had been the same last night as well. Her mind kept replaying the scene - imaging what it would have been like if he hadn't stopped.

Good God and now she doing it again!

Hermione sat up and huffed. No matter how much she would like to avoid talking to Ron, she had a feeling that she would keep going over this in her mind until she finally did. Would he even be up if she knocked on his door right now?

It didn't matter if he was awake or not, her mind was made up and they were going to deal with this now.

Hermione untangled herself from the bed sheet.

Her night shirt was sticking to her chest and had to be adjusted to make sure that all of her proper bits were covered. A thin sheen of sweat that she had failed to notice in her stupor seemed to cover most of her body.

That answered one of her questions at least; it was definitely hot outside and not just her. What she wouldn't give for some good old Muggle air conditioning right now?

Taking care not to wake Ginny as she tipped-toed out of the room, she quietly made her way down the hall and to Ron's room.

She raised her fist to knock.

She could do this.

After all, Ron was still her friend and they would just have to figure this thing out between them.

Hermione took a deep breath only to stop her knuckles inches away from the door. That was when she felt it. The air tingled around her - a clear sign that a ward or a silencing spell was nearby. Looking downward, she could see light shining out of the crack from under the door. Ron was awake and definitely doing something in his room that he didn't want anyone knowing about.

Anger flooded her system. He was sneaking around behind her back again!

Creeping back into her room, she silently tip-toed over to Ginny's dresser. Earlier today, while Ginny was looking for something in the top drawer, Hermione saw one of the twin's extendable ears. There was a good chance that it was still in there.

The drawer creaked a bit but not loud enough to wake her roommate. She pushed aside a few magazines and some hair clips to find the fleshy end piece of the extendable ear. The drawer let out a loud screech as soon as she tried to push it back in. Hermione froze. Seconds ticked by as she held her breath. Ginny made a small snort and turned over.

Hermione slowly released the air from her lungs and shuffled out of the room. It was better to leave the drawer half open and hope that Ginny doesn't think anything about it then risk waking her up. Telling Ginny that she wanted the extendable ear to spy on her brother was not a conversation that Hermione particularly wanted to have.

Her feet came to a stop on one of the squeaky floor boards in front of Ron's room; luckily though, Hermione didn't have to worry about him hearing her. The tricky thing about silencing wards is that they usually silenced both ways. Hermione might not be able to hear in, but Ron also couldn't hear out. There were exceptions to this of course, more complicated spells that could do both but Hermione didn't think that Ron would have been that paranoid in his own home to cast more then a basic silencing spell.

She sat down and leaned her back against the wall. Hermione hoped that she could get enough of the ear under the door to hear what was going on but at the same time that the ear wouldn't be noticeable. Honestly, Fred and George maybe should have thought about making the receiver end something that was easier to blend in. An ear was not exactly something that melds into the background easily.

Hermione carefully thread the ear under the door with one hand as she held the other end up so she could hear. On the right side of Ron's doorway was a dresser. She aimed for the dresser in hopes that the ear would end up underneath it. Luckily, she didn't have to thread it too far until she heard Ron's voice.

"I nearly crapped my pants when I saw that it was still in Kreacher's nest of junk," he said. "Thank _Merlin _we don't have to get it from Umbridge…._again_. Fuck that woman is a nightmare."

"It just feels disgusting," a woman's voice replied. "Dark shit fucking makes my skin crawl."

Hermione knew instantly that the female voice was Lara…..whose real name was Faith. Harry, through a surprising turn of brilliant deduction, had figured out Lara's identity. He had actually gone to the library and had made sure of his conclusion before he had sought Hermione out in the hospital wing. She was so proud of him. Hermione had wanted to tell Ron right away, while they had been on the Hogwarts express, but Harry had asked her to wait. He had been worried that them knowing about Lara would only make Ron more secretive. Harry had a point too - Ron was so unpredictable these days that Hermione could hardly keep up with him.

Faith was a topic that Hermione still hadn't made her mind up on. To say that Faith had a sketchy past was an understatement. Even if only half of what they read in the Daily Prophet had been true, it was still enough to make Faith the type of person that Hermione wasn't too fond of associating with.

"You know how to destroy it?" Faith asked. "Right?"

"Yeah," Ron replied. Hermione could hear him rustling around followed by a groan. "I can't do it here though, it's too dangerous. I don't exactly want to burn my entire house down. I'll try to do it tomorrow night if I'm able to get away. There's a secluded field not to far away from here."

If Ron was sneaking away tomorrow night to destroy something, then there was no way that Hermione wouldn't follow him.

Faith let out a loud sigh. "One down - what four left to go?"

"Well, three considering that Dumbledore has the ring…." Ron paused and Hermione shoved the listening end closer to her ear. "Or at least he should be finding it soon. I haven't said anything yet to him about it. Dumbledore destroyed it before, I didn't feel the need to interfere.'

'Then I know the Cup is at Godric's Hollow but I don't know where it actually is. It was hidden under so many layers of illusions that neither Hermione or I even detected that anything was there. Harry was the one who found it. I swear he was just drawn to the freaky thing. We're probably going to have to wait a little longer before we can go after it. If I didn't find it then, I'm not going to find it now. I need Harry, but….. whatever enchantments are protecting that thing did a number on him. He's not ready yet."

"You're sure?" Faith replied. "I have to say the kid's done better then I expected him too."

"I'm sure, maybe he will be sometime next year - but not now. His Occulmency is not strong enough yet or at least it wasn't when we left school."

"So that leaves the snake, Mother Douche - and the one unknown to get rid of," Faith seemed to finish Ron's thoughts.

Hermione didn't think her body could get any tenser. Whatever Ron and Faith were talking about, it was important. Definitely something that he had not shared with her and Harry yet. Hermione tried not let her anger bubble forward at that thought.

"Any luck in your research?" Ron asked before Hermione could finish her thoughts.

"A little," Faith replied. "I narrowed it down to a few things. Let's see….Rowena had a few legendary objects that had been said to exist over the years. A wand crafted out of some great oak tree that apparently was planted on Merlin's resting spot with a core of a Sphinx - it's supposed to be guarded by some secret sect of knowledge seeking wizards. Our second option of hers is a tiara that once belonged to her daughter - last known whereabouts was Bulgaria. Out of Gryffindor there's his sword but considering you told me that it's in Dumbledore's office, I highly doubt that's it. So, the next likely candidate is his golden shield engraved with lions. Legend says the shield was buried with his body but it was reported that looters dug it up and sold it on the black market. Last known buyer was Rasputin in Russia. It's whereabouts now are unknown."

"It's not the shield," Ron answered. "We tracked down the shield and it wasn't it. We were looking for the wand when the war started."

Hermione frowned to herself. Of course she knew of all of the items that Ron and Faith were discussing; they were the subjects of adventure stories and legends. Why in the world would Ron and Faith be looking for them? She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. The bits of conversation that she did hear was not enough for her to piece together any parts of the puzzle.

"I'll cross the shield off my list," Faith sighed rather loudly. "By the way, research fucking sucks."

Ron let out a sharp laugh.

"Not disagreeing with you there," he said. "But, now maybe that you have a list you can actually hunt for the things like…who was it….Indiana Moans or something?"

"Moans," Faith laughed. "Yeah right maybe in the porno version." She paused before she continued with a smoky voice, "I bet I could get it for you if you want to see it."

"No thank you," Ron replied. "I'm fine on my own."

"Oh really?" Hermione could hear the smirk in her voice. "Thoughts of Hermione keep you entertained at night? The way her lower lip pouts out when she's concentrating. Those full lips around your cock sucking you dry."

Hermione dropped the end of her ear. She did not just hear that! How dare that _tart_ say something like that about her? There's no way that Ron would ever even contemplate picturing her in that position…right?

Hermione hastily grabbed at the ear wishing that she hadn't had dropped it. Ron had better be defending her honor if he knows what's good for him.

From the other end of the ear she could hear laughter.

Damn it!

Hermione resisted the urge to barge in and show her outrage the Muggle way - with her fists

"You are so disgusting," Ron replied as he tried to control his laughter.

"Ha! Oh please, as if you're one to talk. I remember the time - " Hermione heard a dinging chime from inside the room. "That must be Willow….Hey Red."

What? No! While Hermione did not approve of the conversation she definitely wanted to know where it was going!

Wait a minute, was that a cell phone that made that noise? Oh yeah, Ron did say that the one that Faith gave him was programed to work in high magic concentrated area's.

"Awesome," Faith continued. "I'll get back to you on the details later…. Yeah, it'll happen sometime in the next two weeks, he disappears sometime in July according to Ron… . No, I just want you, there's no need to involve anyone else…. It's not up for discussion….Look Red - the answer is no. We'll talk about this later….Bye."

"Good news I take it?" Ron asked Faith.

"Yep," Faith replied. "Willow said that she'd help us take out Ollivander. She's going to take a look at the wards tomorrow but I know the girl won't have any problems tearing them down."

"We must be off our rocker to go after him by ourselves," Ron muttered.

"Yeah - well no one ever accused me of being sane," Faith laughed. "Besides you agreed that this is a smart move. We have to get at him before he disappears in July. From the reconnaissance I've been doing with various demon buddies, it sounds like the negotiation talks are only starting. We need to remove him before those talks get any further. The Dark Lord will be a lot easier to take on without a demon army beside him. . . And. . . One of the possible Horcruxes we are looking for is Rowena's wand, right? What better place to look for it then in the possession of a wand maker?"

Faith said the last line with excitement in her voice.

"Sweet Merlin's balls why didn't I think of that?" Ron's voice echoed Faith's excitement. "Can Willow only help with the wards? It would really be nice if she could back us up."

"I don't know." Hermione could hear the shrug in Faith's voice. "The girls busy with another really huge fucking problem right now. I'm lucky enough to have her agree to this much. Maybe I can get her to spare a couple of hours to help plan our attack but beyond that?"

Faith let her question hand in the air.

"Wait - what problem?" Ron asked.

"It's nothing," Faith vaguely answered. "Just some slayer shit."

Hermione could feel the tension in the air from the other side of the door. Ron let the silence drag out; a sign that he had something on his mind that he was pondering on.

"Does it have to do with your visions - about Buffy?" Ron asked.

"No," Faith quickly replied with a tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, this is something that we took care of last time. It's just happening a little different then I remember. We need to concentrate on Ollivander, he's our bigger problem."

"Yeah, okay," Ron replied softly but even Hermione could tell that he wasn't convinced. "Blimey, if the Horcrux is there…"

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," Faith let out a frustrated sigh. "When have we ever caught an easy break on something? I'll see if I can dig up a picture of the wand. That way if it's there we sort of know what we're looking for. It would be a hell of a lot easy if I could sense the damn thing before I was holding it. Fuck, it's going to take a long time if we have to touch every single fucking wand…maybe we should bring Harry in on this?"

"No," Ron said rather forcefully. "He's not ready yet."

"He's not or you're not," Faith replied.

"He's not," Ron stated again even more forcefully.

"I'm just saying," Faith interrupted. "He's got guts that for sure and it's pretty easy to tell that he hates being left in the dark about this shit. Not to mention, you told me yourself that he's the only one who can recognize the Horcrux without having to touch it. I think we're going to need him to find the damn thing."

Ron didn't reply.

Hermione agreed with Faith. Harry would be pissed if he found out that they had went after a Death Eater without him. Actually, Hermione was pissed that Ron hadn't even thought of asking her for help. Why bother even getting an illegal wand in the first place if she wasn't going to do illegal activities with it?

Hermione clenched her fists. Why does that damn boy have to be so aggravating?

The conversation seemed to have died down. She could either walk away and crawl into bed or she could barge into the room and demand to be part of the attack. She fiddled with her night shirt as she contemplated her options. Screw this, she was much to angry at being left out - _again_!

Hermione pushed herself off the ground and away from the wall. She hastily pulled on the string and shoved the ear back into her pocket. Chance were that Ron's room was not locked. For such a loud and hectic house full of pranking, the family seemed to rarely lock their doors. On the off chance it was locked, she'd just go back to her room and get her new wand and 'alohamora' it open.

She stared at the closed door for a second before taking a deep breath. It would do her no good if the first thing she did was go in and started yelling at Ron. That would not be productive in getting him to see her way on things.

Hermione pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Ron and Faith snapped their heads to her at the sound. Now that she was inside the silencing spell, they could hear her. Hermione's eyes widened a little at the sight of the two of them.

Faith sat sideways at the foot of the bed with her back against the wall. She looked very different then from the time when Hermione saw her at the ministry. She wore a plain white tank top (wife beaters she believed they were called) and a pair of ripped up jean shorts. Ron was sitting next the her, rather closely Hermione might add. Their shoulders were practically touching. He was shirtless only wearing only cloth pants.

Hermione could feel her anger rising the longer she looked at the two of them. They looked much to comfortable for her liking.

"Hermione. . . " Did Ron just squeak?

Hermione tore her eyes away from his muscles (When exactly had Ron gotten muscles anyway?) and to the bed they were sitting on. Strewn around them were books and various papers that they had obviously been using as research. That in its self was shock enough alone.

"Ron," Hermione acknowledged making sure to look at his face and not any lower.

"Uh….." was all he could reply.

"Faith." Hermione looked a the dark haired woman sitting next to him.

Hermione shut the door behind her as Faith let out a loud laugh.

"Hey girl," she said. "No wonder Ron's had his boxers in a twist all night. I didn't know you were here."

Ron's face flushed and he smacked the woman in the arm.

Faith looked only slightly annoyed at the action.

"You shouldn't hit a girl Ron," Hermione chided letting some of her anger seep into her voice.

"Sure, you say that now - just wait until you get to know her a little better," Ron grumbled. He glanced at her as if he only now realized the full implications of her being here. "Look Hermione, this isn't what you think it is."

"Oh really?" Hermione resisted the urge to cross her arms. Instead she settled for just glaring. "Because it looks like to me that you two are discussing Harry's future and planning attacks on Death Eaters."

Ron was silent.

"Or, were you two doing something else that I should know about?"

"How long were you listening in?" Ron asked.

"Long enough to hear you two talking about attacking Ollivander." She walked further into the room and stopped at the edge of the bed. Hermione wasn't ready to tell them yet that she had heard more. Sometimes Ron could only process one thing at a time and she didn't want him clamming up on her now. She climbed onto the bed and sat on the other side of Ron. "I want to come with."

"What?" Ron startled. "No….no way."

"Why not?" she heatedly asked. "Faith was right - you two can't take him on alone."

"It's too dangerous and it's stupid," Ron replied.

"Oh come on Ron," Hermione huffed. "Our lives have been filled with us doing dangerous and stupid stuff since first year."

"This is different."

"No, it's not," Hermione shot back. "We're a team - we always have been and there is no way I'm letting you do this alone."

Faith cleared her throat.

"Okay," Hermione amended. "Not alone but you know what I mean. You are not doing something this important without us."

"Wait…Us?" Ron asked. Hermione could have sworn that his eyes slightly widened.

"Yes….Us," Hermione firmly stated. "Me and Harry."

"No," Ron rushed out. "No…no. Neither of you are ready and not to mention Harry doesn't even have a new wand yet."

"We're not ready!" Her voice went up an octave. "For your information - I am plenty ready and so is Harry. We might not have this luxury of being 'all-knowing' like you suddenly have but damn it we want to help! This is our war too! If you think we need to know more then teach us. Teach us spells that will make us ready! And honestly, what do you think Harry will say if he finds out that you ran off and attacked Death Eaters without even telling him. It will probably be the last straw. Either he'll figure it out or I will tell him and no matter what he will be pissed."

Hermione paused in her rant and glared at Ron to see a slightly panicked look on his face. He turned Faith and ran a hand through his hair.

"Don't look for help from me Freckles," Faith replied. "I agree with her. We need Harry, and Hermione can probably help as well."

"They're not ready," Ron restated.

"So? They're in it no matter what," Faith responded. "I know you've been doing your best to prepare them but you can only do so much. They want in. They want to help and I can bet that they do understand what will fucking happen if they fail." Faith paused and looked at Hermione. "You do understand what will happen if we fuck up right? You are ready to do this shit because we can't baby sit you and Harry. This is war. And while I agree with Ron that you aren't ready for it, I understand that you are a part of it and it will do more harm then good to keep you away. So, tell me Hermione - are you ready to kill someone….because it will eventually come down to that."

Hermione pressed her lips together and considered what Faith had just said to her. Faith's dark eyes held her own making Hermione feel the weight of the slayers words.

Was she ready?

Hermione would never doubt her commitment against Voldemort but was she ready to attack and possibly kill Death Eaters? Was Hermione ready to go on the offense and attack Ollivander? It wasn't that she doubted Ron's words. In fact, if he said that Ollivander worked for Voldemort then she did believe him. Of course a claim like that was a bit bonkers - but she honestly believed that something had happened to Ron to make him know these things.

"I killed Lucius Malfoy." Faith's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You know that right? You have to understand the reality of this shit. I fucking bashed his face in with my fists and you know what? I would do the same thing again. The moment you commit to this, you are no longer allowed to hold on to your childish ideals. That's why Ron doesn't think you and Harry are ready. It's not the fighting or the spell work and hell, it probably isn't even that you are only starting to learn Occulmency - it's the fact that he doesn't want to destroy your innocence. He doesn't think you're ready yet to have it crushed."

Could Hermione kill someone? Oh, she had heard that Malfoy was dead but she didn't know that Faith had killed him. Was she really that surprised? No, she wasn't. The Daily Prophet had often referred to Faith as the Dark Slayer. It was said that Faith had done some awful things in her past. Hermione studied the slayers face and could see that there was darkness etched into her eyes.

Hermione tried not to squirm as Faith returned her gaze.

Light wizards had always talked about how killing was evil. That a life was precious and shouldn't be wasted. It's why Azkaban was so full of prisoners. People like Bellatrix - who had killed and tortured probably scores of wizards and Muggles - rotted in that prison when logic stated that maybe it would have been better to have them sentenced to death.

"Would you kill someone Ron?" Hermione asked. Ron's face was pale and he swallowed deeply while he considered his answer. Hermione honestly didn't know what it would be.

"Yes," he quietly stated. "I think it might surprise you what I would do in order to protect you and Harry."

Hermione searched his face. He meant it, he really did. She wanted to be surprised by his answer, but she wasn't. Ron had always been fiercely loyal to his family and it had been evident that her and Harry had become part of that family. While he had always been firmly rooted in the Light side of wizards, she could see why he would bend that principle.

It bothered her though - the abrupt switch in his personality. Three months ago, Ron would have denied it. He would have said no. Ron would have considered it something a dark wizard would do and thus something that he was incapable of.

"I don't know," Hermione finally answered. "And I have a feeling that I won't know either until I am placed in that position. But I do know that I'm not going to lose Ron and I'm not going to lose Harry. I'm not going to let that happen."

Ron gave her a sad smile and took her hand. He gave her a light squeezing letting her know that he accepted her answer.

"And you know what Ron, I have a feeling that Harry's answer would be the same," Hermione lightly added.

Ron was quiet for a few minutes and Hermione didn't want to disrupt his thoughts. He still held her hand and traced small circular patterns on it with his thumb. Hermione tried not to react to his touch no matter how distracting it was. There was still that big issue of _the incident_ that had yet to be dealt with. Hermione doubted that Ron was even conscious of his actions right now.

"We're going to have to find something to do about Harry's lack of wand," Ron said. "I don't know if we'll be able to get him one in time. Merlin, I don't even know if we'll be able to get him out of the Dursley's considering he's under the constant watch of the Order."

"We'll figure out something," Hermione replied. "Even if we can't figure out a way to take him with us. He'll definitely want to know about what we're doing."

Ron nodded mostly to himself.

"Ollivander leaves town sometime early July," he said. "That means we have two weeks until he skips out. We'll have to do it soon."

Faith smiled. "We'll tear the fucker apart."

Hermione startled a bit at Faith's exclamation. Ron must have noticed her reaction.

"Let's hope," he said as he caught Hermione's eye. "Because if we fail at this, Ollivander will be the least of our worries. Believe me Hermione, the sooner Ollivander is dead, the better it is for everyone."

Hermione held his gaze and gave him a single nod. She noticed his voice was uncommonly hard. This harshness in Ron was not something she was used to and she had a feeling that it would be quite a while before she would be. Merlin, she felt like there was too much lately that she was learning about one of her best friends that she didn't honestly know how much more she could handle.

-oOo-

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind Faith. She flinched as most of the eyes in the restaurant turned towards her. Many of them she could feel giving her a good look over, up and down. It was a classier wizarding joint and Faith was immensely glad that she had worn something a little nicer then her jeans and T-shirt look. The little black dress she was wearing wasn't too elegant but it worked. The front was low cut to show a bit of cleavage and the bottom fell a few inches above her knees. Taking a quick look at the patrons who were watching her – she realized that maybe she should have worn something a little longer. Oh well.

She walked in and up to the bar feeling the eyes leave her one by one and go back to their meals and drinks. A drink – that was what she really needed.

Talking a quick look around, she didn't see any sign that Giles or Mr. Wrung, her new boss, were there yet. Faith walked up to the bar and glanced that the alcohol selection on the wall behind her.

She frowned briefly to herself.

Stupid wizarding fancy liquors.

Why had her boss wanted to met in a place like this? Seriously, The Leaky Cauldron would have worked just fine with her. Apparently though, her boss had some expensive tastes. He had wanted a place where they could have a quick business meeting as well as a celebration/welcoming for her acceptance in the wizarding world. This upper class thing though seemed beyond her. She knew that she had to learn and look the part considering she would be dealing with some of the wizarding upperclass society. Faith hated trying to play the good girl.

At least the meeting shouldn't take too long. She had much more important plans later tonight anyway. Faith was meeting up with Ron and Hermione to scheme on how exactly they were to get Harry out and get him a wand.

Frowning, she resumed her search for something to drink that was a little classier then Firewhiskey.

"The Fire Spirits are good," came a drawling voice to her left, "but if you're looking for something sweeter, I'd try the Berrywine."

Faith glanced over to see one of the last people she had expected. Familiar platinum blond hair and gray eyes stared back at her. For a brief second, Faith was worried that Draco Malfoy had recognized her from back at Hogwarts only to remember that she wasn't wearing her Lara glamour.

"Um, thanks," she replied very glad that she looked like her normal self. "But I tend to like my drinks with a little bite."

Draco smiled at her and took a sip of the dark liquid that he was drinking.

"Then you're like me," he replied then called for the bartender. "Reginald. Can you make the lady one of these? Make me another one as well."

Faith glanced at him.

"Don't worry," he answered her unasked question. "It's on me."

He held out his hand.

"Ms. Lehane," he said causing her to smile in disbelief. You had to be fucking kidding. "Draco Malfoy at your service."

Faith barely stopped herself from asking how the fuck he knew her name. After all, Malfoy Sr. had always known who the powerful people in the world were – so why would his son be any different?

"I know," she replied instead and took his hand. "Recently declared head of the Malfoy family and estate. Your name has been in the Daily Prophet almost as much as mine."

Draco Malfoy seemed to be the perfect subject to try out this new sexy business woman thing that she was trying to get a handle over.

He smiled as their drinks appeared.

"Thanks," she said and took a sip. Faith wasn't sure what it was but it reminded her of Johnny Walker without the funky old leather shoe after taste. "It's good."

And it was.

"A Malfoy always has fine tastes."

"So, Mr. Malfoy," Faith began. "What can I do for you?"

Draco laughed lightly. "Well, it's not often one has the chance to talk to an actual Slayer. Let's just say I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"Draco," a dark haired girl appeared on his other side and wound her arm over Draco's shoulder. An annoyed expression came over his face but the girl couldn't see it. "I thought you were getting me something to drink?"

She gave Faith a haughty glare making her almost laugh out loud. Clearly, the girl, who Faith recognized as Pansy, was marking her territory. Faith smiled back at Pansy and leaned a little against the bar revealing her cleavage a bit more. Pansy glared and pulled Draco closer to her. Faith tried not to snicker as he gagged against the arm that wound around his neck.

Faith took a long sip of her drink, she was enjoying this game. It wasn't like she would ever consider Draco as a bed partner considering he was probably about six years younger and a minor. Pansy didn't need to know that though, and it was fun to make the little bitch sweat some.

"No need to be impatient Pansy," Draco said and removed her arm. He handed the drink that he had clearly ordered for himself to the girl. "We're having a conversation here. Take this and go sit back down."

From the tone of Draco's voice it was not to be taken as a request.

Pansy gave Faith another look over and clearly didn't like what she saw. With a small snort, she turned around and walked back to the table that Draco must have been sitting at before. There was another girl and two more guys sitting there. All of them seemed to be watching the exchange with interest. Remnants of a meal was being cleared away from the table making Pansy have to wait before sitting down. Faith wanted to laugh at the look of injustice that came over her face.

"Wasn't that your drink?" Faith asked turning her attention back to Draco.

"Yes, and she hates that stuff." There was a dark humor in his voice. "But she'll drink it anyway considering it's from me. She should have waited and then maybe she could have gotten what she wanted."

"Can't she just buy it herself?"

"They won't sell it to her," Draco replied.

"Why not?"

"Underage."

Come to think of it, why could Draco buy alcohol anyway? Wasn't the wizarding legal drinking age at seventeen?

"Aren't you?" she asked.

"You said it yourself," he waved at the bartender for another drink, "I'm the head of the Malfoy family now and that means that I'm automatically of age for all things."

Faith had a feeling that he was only explaining it to her because he knew that she didn't have a lot of wizarding politics experience. While slayers were well known in the wizarding world, they were not known to interact with that world. In fact, a lot of wizards pretty much considered them magical creatures. The thought of why Draco was talking to her crossed her mind again. There had to be some sort of agenda with him – probably having to deal with her being a slayer (a famous one at that) and the fact that she knows people in the Council.

"The bartender doesn't care?" she asked instead of voicing what she really wanted to know.

"Not as long as I'm the one buying them," he answered. "No one says no to a Malfoy."

Faith glanced back over her shoulder and watched Pansy take a very slow sip of her drink. The face she made was priceless. Laughing, she took a large swallow of her own.

"So Ms. Lehane," Draco stirred his new drink and watched her. "What brings you to this fine establishment?"

"Business meeting," she paused to have another sip. "I've taken a new position as an artifact acquisitor with Artifacts, Relics and Antiquities."

"ARA, really?" Draco replied much in the fashion that Faith was expecting. "I must have you out to the mansion then. I have a few items that I would like to part with and ARA has always done excellent business. There are also a few items that I would like appraised."

"I'm sure we can work something out." Faith reached into her purse and handed him her business card. If anything, she was sure her boss would be at least happy with his business if she doesn't personally make the visit herself. Draco's fingers brushed against hers very much in the same manner as he did when she had been leaving Hogwarts for the Department of Mysteries. Chances were that if he recognized her, then he wouldn't be speaking to her now.

"Faith." The girl in question sharply drew her hand away and looked to her right to see that Giles was standing beside her. "I see that you are early. Is Mr. Wrung here yet?"

"Haven't seen him," she replied watching Giles order a bottle of wine for the table. She briefly wondered how the hell he knew what the fuck to order. Damn guy always seemed to know everything, it freaking got annoying. Giles turned back to her and his eyes fell on Draco.

"Mr. Rupert Giles," Draco extended his hand over the bar and past Faith, "Draco Malfoy, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

If Draco knew who she was, then it shouldn't have surprised her that he also knew of Giles. Giles took his hand and gave him a firm shake. His eyes flickered to Faith almost to quick to catch. No double noting that his name was the same as the man who had died in the Department of Mysteries. Giles might not have straight out asked her if she had killed Lucius Malfoy during their talks, but she could pretty much assume that he thought she did.

"Yes, of course," Giles said. "I offer my condolences for the loss of Malfoy Senior."

"Thank you," Draco replied.

"My apologies that I am unable to stay and chat but I have a few things to go over before our meeting. If you see Mr. Wrung before I Faith, please point him to our table. You're welcome to stay here and chat for bit, just come and join me when you're ready."

"Sure thing," Faith replied.

"Mr. Malfoy." Giles nodded his head in which Draco returned the acknowledgement. "It's been a pleasure. Perhaps next time we will have a little more time to talk."

Faith watched Draco watch Giles walk away in search of a table. There was something in Draco's expression that she couldn't quite understand. His facial features were set in stone, not giving his thoughts away, but his eyes were a different matter. They were intense as they followed Giles' movements. It ruined the indifferent attitude that he was trying to project. Faith had the feeling that Draco wanted Giles - whether it was what he represented or his connections to the Council. But why would the kid want Giles? While she wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort had already gotten to the kid, she didn't believe for a second that he would have asked Draco to try to get close to the Council. To put it nicely, that mission would be a little out of Draco's league.

Maybe Draco was interested in the Council for his own advancement?

"What brings you here tonight Draco?" Faith asked. His attention turned back to her and Faith tried to act like she hadn't notice that he was intently watching Giles. From the 'oh shit I'm caught' eye widening though, she was sure that she failed.

"We're celebrating my birthday," he replied after a pause to regain his composure. "It was in early June but with all of the happenings of this month, I haven't had a chance to give myself a proper celebration."

Faith did a quick mental calculation using what she knew about how old Ron was supposed to be right now. Draco must be turning sixteen.

She painfully remembered being sixteen – fuck she was a mess then. She had been spiraling down a path of death and destruction. Faith looked at Draco out of the corner of her eye. Shit, she wouldn't be surprised for a second if the kid was heading the same direction.

"Get anything good?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "It's been a rather dull evening with people trying to impress me and failing to do so, but it's starting to look up."

He smiled at her.

It was a charming smile.

Aristocratic.

It was a smile that broadcasted what it he was and what he promised. Fame, wealth and power. He directed that smile at her. Faith took a large swig of her drink realizing that maybe Draco was a bit more like her at his age then she had originally thought. While he was selling fame and power, she had been selling sex and a good time. While the products might be different, they both had been aiming for the same results.

Respect.

Acknowledgement.

The question was though, why was he aiming all of this at her?

"I suppose meeting a slayer is a special occasion in itself," she said. "But, to make that slayer me...well, how could it get any better?"

"Oh, I have an idea," Draco drawled.

This time, Faith laughed rather loudly.

The old Faith probably would have disregarded his age and taken him up on the offer. And it was definitely an offer there was no mistaking that. But she hasn't been that person for a very long time. Funny though – that's still how people seem to view her even though her whoring ways ended awhile ago.

"Well, when I think of something that's even a better gift then sharing a drink with me, I'll let you know."

Draco smiled at her but remained silent.

Faith was struck once again at how much he looked like his father. He had the same elongated face and gray eyes. When she had seen him at Hogwarts, she didn't have much of a chance to study him. His smile though, that's the feature that she would consider the most similar to Lucius. Even when it was supposed to be kind or hell, even sexy it never lost that cold and calculating edge.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her boss was making his way to where Giles had parked. Faith signaled the bartender for another drink realizing that she too would have to make her way over there. Faith wasn't the only one to notice his entrance either, Draco was watching the man as well.

"You know," Faith said as the thought that had been bugging her in the back of her mind finally made its voice known. "The Watcher's Council is a Muggle organization. And by wizarding standards, Giles wouldn't be any more then a Muggle himself."

Faith almost added in that she was considered a magical creature, like a werewolf but held her tongue. That, in itself didn't matter as much as the general subject of the conversation. Why the hell was he playing interested with Muggles when it had always been clear of his family's point of view on the subject?

Draco looked at her and narrowed his eyes. The question had certainly caught him off guard.

"That may be, but the Council has commanded the respect of the Wizarding world for ages," he held her gaze. "They might not be wizardly, but they are certainly not _Muggle_."

He sneered through the word Muggle sounding very much like his father.

Faith smiled and this time it wasn't a nice one. It was the smile that her enemies see often.

"The Council is here to protect the world from _Darkness_," she replied emphasizing the last world. The words that followed just seemed to pour out of her mouth before she had a chance to process what she was saying. When looking back upon it, she would probably say that she had wished that someone had had this same type of conversation with her when she was his age and facing the crossroads of her life. "Whether Muggle or Wizard, or even fucking demon, we will protect them against whatever threat is trying to upset the world. Believe it or not Draco, everything in this world is connected and balanced. Wizards need Muggles like the trees and the Earth need forest fires."

Draco looked at her like she had grown a second head. She hadn't meant to get all preachy on him, but it just came out. Faith was certain that Draco's views on Muggle society followed in the same line as his father's had.

"Don't be foolish," he replied. "You especially should realize your worth in a world far below you."

"But without a world to protect and serve, what good would I be?" Faith replied. "This so called 'worth' would be gone. You're a smart guy Draco and anyone with half a brain can see how ambitious you are. It takes balls of steel after all to come up here and talk to me or Giles for that matter. What you need to think about is what you want to do with your life?'

' Not what your father wanted you to do – he's dead and sorry to say, he was an asshole. And in case you're wondering, yes I did met him in person and found that out for myself. '

'Not what Dumbledore wants you to do – or what your class mates expect of you. Not what the Dark Lord wants you to do either. But what do you want to do Draco?"

Faith let her eyes go back to where Giles and her boss were sitting. She felt Draco's gaze follow her own.

"If you want to be one of them," she said indicating with her head who she was talking about. "If you want to be one of the leaders and not just a sheep in the fucking flock, then you got to think for yourself."

Faith took a long swig of her drink.

"Following other people's ideals will just get you killed or miserable. Believe me, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted in life and I had a lot of bad shit and destiny crap to sort though. What it came down to is I wasn't going to fight for something that wasn't on my terms or that I didn't believe in. I had been following other people's perceptions of me for far too fucking long to let it happen again."

Faith set her now empty glass on the bar and pushed it away from her.

"Look kid, I have a meeting to get to but thanks for the drink."

Draco finished off his own in a large gulp.

"You're welcome," he replied and looked at her. His eyes were rather serious and looked like he wasn't sure what to make of she had said. "It has been interesting. You're not quite what I expected."

"Neither are you," Faith smiled. "You're too fucking much like me at your age then I expected."

She stood up and pushed in her bar stool. "Until next time."

Faith tilted her head goodbye and made her way over to Giles. She was almost certain that there was going to be a next time. Hopefully though, next time won't involve them trying to kill each other.


	17. Matters of Trust

**A/N: **I just wanted to give a huge thank you to all of my reviewers. I know that I am not the best at responding but I appreciate your words more then you can image.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

**Timeline (not including prologue): **Harry Potter starts during the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. To be precise, in the middle of Chapter 27, page 605 (although, depending on the book, the page number will be different) during the end of March. BTVS begins the March after the series ends.

* * *

**Mein Teil**

Chapter 16: Matters of Trust

* * *

Harry sat outside in the warm afternoon. His trousers stained by the grass and mud of his aunt Petunia's back yard. While she no longer forced him to do the gardening, he found it relaxing and methodical and did it for those reasons. Not that he would ever tell his aunt about that though. Besides, he could only sit inside his bedroom for so long until his boredom became unbearable and Harry had reached that state of mind long ago. It was times like these that Harry wished that he had a few friends that lived in the neighborhood. He silently cursed Dudley for driving them off years ago.

It was too bad that there had always been some sort of unspoken rule that Ron and Hermione weren't allowed to visit him over the summer. Needless to say, his summer breaks would have been more enjoyable if he would have been able to see his friends. Even with all of the arguing between Ron and himself these last few months, he still wanted him here. These past few weeks had given Harry the time to consider the situation that he was is and what part Ron played in it. At least all this time by himself had been good for something.

Harry had come to a conclusion, the next time he saw Ron he would not get angry and argue. There had been too much of that lately and Harry just couldn't be angry anymore. It was too damn exhausting. It was time for him to start seriously listening to what Ron was saying.

Harry sighed to himself. Maybe if he wished really hard Ron and Hermione would magically show up?

Harry had tried to keep himself busy by focusing on training. Unfortunately, he could only do so much training when it was considered illegal to cast spells outside of school. It seemed like a stupid rule and Harry had a distinct feeling that the pureblooded families had figured out a way to get past it. So, he focused on what he could do that didn't necessarily require magic. He mostly focused on his Occlumency.

After the Department of Mysteries, Harry wanted to be ready for whatever else Voldemort had up his sleeve. He hadn't taken Snape's training seriously. Hell, he still wouldn't take it seriously even if Snape offered it now. But, he should have been taking what Ron had been saying seriously. He should have been studying with Hermione and Ron instead of being so bullheaded to not even consider that option.

Now, if only he could learn Occlumency a bit quicker.

If Hermione was here she would have sure been able to help him.

The screen door squeaked open and slammed shut but Harry didn't turn around to see who it was. Petunia was the only one who ever bothered him out here. Normally, it was to tell him what he was doing wrong but at least she was quick about it. Maybe if he ignored her she would go away?

"Harry," called a familiar girls voice that did not belong to his aunt. He turned around to see Hermione walking across the lawn towards him followed by Ron. Harry rubbed his eyes and blinked leaving dirt smudged across his face. Perhaps the sun was getting to him?

With a shake of his head, he realized Ron and Hermione were really standing in his aunt's backyard.

"Hermione...Ron...What are you guys doing here?" he asked honestly shocked by the turn of events. Standing up he dropped the gardening hoe and rubbed his muddy hands on his already stained jeans.

"We snuck out," Hermione answered with a smile. "We're supposed to be helping Fred and George with their joke shop."

"They have a shop now?" Harry didn't know that.

Hermione was trotted up to him and wrapped her arms around in a hug. He lightly returned it trying not to dirty her shorts and shirt.

"Yeah, you'd love it Harry," Ron replied as Hermione pulled away. "We'll have to go there the first chance you get. It's way better then Zonko's."

"That's fantastic."

"How long do you think we have before the Order realizes that we're here?" Hermione asked Harry abruptly changing the subject. "We kind of - um - snuck over."

"Really?...I don't know," he replied. "I don't have very many visitors. I don't think they'd throw you out though."

"Yes, well...you never know. And besides, Molly doesn't exactly know that we're here," Hermione replied. "Can we go inside for a bit Harry? Talk where it's a little bit more private."

"Sure," he answered and led the way back to the screen door that opened to the kitchen. "I'd have loved to see my aunts face when you two knocked on the door."

Ron laughed. "Yeah mate, she got pretty red and huffed like a horse."

"How'd you get her to let you in?"

"Threatened her with angry wizards," Hermione answered. "Well, Ron did at least. I just promised that we'd behave."

"Blimey, cause that would have worked," Ron replied. Harry couldn't see his face, but he was sure that Ron was rolling his eyes.

Harry smiled. He was glad that they were here.

Harry led the way into the kitchen and footed off his shoes. They were full of mud and Petunia would not appreciate if he tracked it all over the house. While he didn't like the woman, it was better for all if he at least attempted to appeased his relatives with simple things like that.

"You can leave your shoes by the door," he told his friends.

After the shoes were off, he lead the way up the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ron glance venomously at the cupboard under the stairs. Harry didn't think he had ever told his friends that he had spent the first ten or so years sleeping there. It wasn't something that he liked to share with people.

Petunia was no where to be seen and Harry was sure that she had vacated the premise as soon as Ron and Hermione had entered the house.

"I'm not sure which Order members were watching the house but I think were able to cause enough of a distracted to get in without them noticing," Ron said as they entered Harry's room.

"How?" Harry asked.

"Muggle fireworks," Ron replied. "We charmed them to go off in sequence so they'll be distracted."

"Brilliant," Harry said.

Ron pulled out a wand that Harry had never seen before from an arm hostler that Harry also had never seen before. The wand looked longer and darker then the one that Ron normally carried. After knowing Ron for many years, he could easily identify his wand, Hermione's too. Ron flicked his wrist and Harry felt the slight tingle of magic across his skin.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked. There was no doubt in his mind that that was not Ron's wand. The only question in his mind was, whose wand was it?

"Bought it," Ron smiled. "Hermione got one as well. As soon as we can sneak you out of here we can get you a new one too."

Harry's mouth fell slightly open.

"You bought a second wand?" he asked. "But, isn't that illegal?"

Ron shrugged answering Harry's question without words.

Harry turned to Hermione with a shocked expression on his face. It wasn't really that big of a surprise from Ron, Ron wasn't really known for always thinking things through, but it was not something he had expected Hermione to do.

"Ron had a valid point as to why we needed to get them," Hermione replied talking a seat on Harry's floor with her back leaning against his bed. "How are we supposed to do any sort of training or protect ourselves when the Ministry can track every spell that we do with our wands? We have so much we need to prepare for and so little time to do it."

"But, where did you even get them?" Harry asked.

"In Knockturn Alley." Hermione pressed her lips together. "But that's not really what we came to talk about….I don't really understand how Ron knew where to get them either."

That last part was said under her breath.

"We had a meeting with Lara the other day," Ron said. Either Ron didn't hear what Hermione had just said or he was ignoring her. "There are a few things that we - all of us - need to talk about."

Harry glanced at Hermione trying to confirm that by Lara, Ron had actually meant Faith. Hermione nodded her head in agreement but Ron noticed.

"Yes, I know that you know her real name," Ron said. "I'd prefer it though if it wasn't used as she will get in a lot of trouble for interfering in wizarding society if the wrong people overheard. I don't want to take that chance."

Harry turned to Hermione. "I thought we weren't going to tell him that we knew?"

"It couldn't be helped," Hermione replied with long sigh. "I'll tell you the story later when we have a bit more time. But to make it simple, I walked in on a meeting between Ron and Lara two nights ago."

Hermione glanced at Ron obviously waiting for him to take the lead in this conversation. Ron caught her eye and stopped his pacing. He took a seat next to Hermione and ran a hand through his hair. Harry sat as well but he leaned against the wall under his window. He watched Ron as he fiddled with his wand.

"Oh come on Ron," Hermione said causing him to drop the wand. "It's not that difficult."

Ron glared at her.

"Easy for you to say," he replied.

"Well," Harry said. "Why don't you start with why you're here?"

Ron scowled at his wand on the carpet before picking it up and renewing its twirling.

"Well, like Hermione said, we met with Lara two nights ago." Ron paused momentarily before plunging in. "Merlin, there really isn't a way of putting this gently. So, just interrupt me with questions because I'm just going to grab the hippogriff by the tail." Ron took a deep breathe before continuing. "The Dark Lord has started negotiations with various demon clans. He's insane. Truly insane; probably more so then the Order has yet to realize. I don't know when his ideal's changed, but he no longer has his sights on just the blood purity of the wizarding world. He has moved on to bigger, grander - more fucked up things.

"He plans on turning this world into his society, run by wizards, supported by magical creatures and built upon the backs of Muggle slaves.

"It seems like crazy arse plan, I know. But in the next year, one of his supporters becomes the Minister of Magic, his name is Pius Thicknesse. The Dark Lord's actions lessen, and people start to believe that Pius is doing good things in the Ministry. He slowly starts pushing out the Dark Lord's agenda of wizard superiority. In about three years, the Dark Lord put's all of his hard work into play. The demons that Voldie had made deals with attacked the Muggle government. I don't know how that arsehole did it, but he must have Imperiused some import people because when the Muggles retaliate, they do so against Wizard Society. Diagon Alley is nearly destroyed that day.

"Our people turn to Pius, who then turns to the Dark Lord and the wizarding population starts to believe that Voldie might have been right this entire time. Muggles could have probably won a war if it was just between us and them, but we had demons on our side. A shite lot of demons and the Muggles didn't stand a chance."

Speechless, Harry stared at Ron. He honestly didn't think he had words in his vocabulary to describe the deepening pit forming in his stomach.

Ron ran his hands over his face appearing to be lost in memories.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Hermione looked a little green as well. Whatever they had spoken about the other night, this apparently wasn't it.

"I'm getting off track," Ron said shaking himself out of his stupor. "We're limited on time and this wasn't what we came here to talk about."

Ron sighed and leaned his head back thumping it lightly against the bed. "Right now, Lara and I want to stop the negotiations with the demons before they start to find their footing. In order to do that, we have decided to go after the half demon who facilitates this deal. Ollivander."

Ron was silent.

Harry was glad for the break too. This was almost to much to take in.

It's not often that the megalomanic does something that Harry would consider even crazier then normal. The destruction of Muggle society was almost unbelievable to Harry. No wonder Ron wants to stop everything now before the negotiations begin.

"Wait a minute," Harry said as he realized something. "Ollivander as in the wand maker? He's a demon and working for Voldemort?"

After all that Ron had just told him, strangely the part about Ollivander had been what Harry found most baffling.

Ron nodded. "A half demon or something but the percentage doesn't really matter."

"Seriously?"

Ron nodded again.

"I was doubtful too about Ollivander," Hermione spoke up. "After all the man's been in the wizarding world for ages. So long in fact that I think it's proof in its self that he isn't entirely human. And if Ron says that he's a Death Eater, then I'm willing to take the chance and believe him."

After a few minutes of silent disbelief, Harry finally organized his thoughts into simple statements.

"So Ollivander is a half-demon Death Eater working with Voldemort to destroy the Muggle world, elevate Wizarding Society and make demons living here common place?"

"Basically yes," Ron replied.

"Say I believe you," stated Harry. "Now what?"

"We're planning on taking Ollivander out of the equation."

"You're planning on killing him?" Harry couldn't help but shout.

"Yes," Ron solemnly answered. "It's not like we can turn him over to Azkaban and it isn't safe to keep him alive for any longer then necessary. He will be left with Lara first for extraction of information and we will have to dispose of him."

Harry gaped at Ron. Of all actions that Harry had expected this 'new' Ron to do, this was not one of them. He was discussing killing a man - or demon. Merlin and this 'extraction' of information sounds suspiciously like torture!

"But we're talking about Ollivander." There was no way that Ron could seriously be thinking about torturing and killing the wand maker. "The man's been a part of the wizarding world for ages. People love the guy. He might be creepy but working for Voldemort? You really trust in these visions of your's that much?"

"I do and I will not risk our world turning into that hell hole. Not again."

And now, it boiled down to how much Harry trusted these visions from Ron. From what Ron had just said about the future, it sounded awful. Merlin, it fucking sucked to put it gently. It made Harry sick to even start thinking about it.

"Lara and I are going after him," Ron said. "Ollivander is too dangerous and we have to do something about him now before it's too late. Just think - if we can stop these demon negotiations before they go anywhere - think of the damage it will do to the Dark Lord's plans! Without the demons buy his side he won't stand a chance against the Muggles. We can't afford to sit around and do nothing - not this time. We have an advantage and we are going to use it."

Ron was right. Harry did not like the thought of killing someone but if what Ron had said was true, then the death of Ollivander would be a good thing. Could Ron even do that though? Would Ron have the balls to end Ollivander's life when the time came? Harry himself wouldn't have resolution to do it. That was one thing that he was sure of.

But if Ron was wrong…if Ollivander was just an eccentric wand maker who aged really well, then what?

"But there's a second reason. . ." Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Lara is searching for well – they're not really weapons, but they're items that will help us kill the Dark Lord," Ron said. Harry felt his mouth practically drop open. What? "There's a chance that Ollivander might have one of them."

"You know how to kill Voldemort? As in kill him so that he'll actually stay dead this time?" Harry's stomach fell as he realized that this was what Ron had been worried about Voldemort finding out. Merlin's balls, no wonder Ron had been so adamant that Harry and Hermione learn Occlumency.

"Wait a minute, are you sure you can tell us?" Harry asked, hating himself for doing so because Merlin he really wanted to know what Ron was going to say. "I mean, yeah so maybe telling me Voldemort's plans wasn't a smart idea either but this is entirely different. If you actually know how to kill him - is it safe for me to know? Don't get me wrong, I really want to know but I'd rather have Voldemort dead and everyone else remain alive."

"I don't know if it's safe, but it's about time that I start trusting my friends." Ron looked guilty as he said those words. "When you get to Grimmauld Place this summer, we're going to have to study Occlumency intensely and make progress fast. But with Hermione helping, I'm sure that won't be a problem." Ron smiled at her cause the girl to go bright red then turned back to Harry. "Just please attempt to act surprised when Dumbledore tells this to you because I have a feeling that he'll be rather angry if he finds out that you heard it from me."

Ron looked at Harry and then Hermione. They both nodded back at him in confirmation. Apparently whatever Ron was going to tell him, Hermione hadn't heard about it yet either.

"The Dark Lord had attached parts of his soul to objects in an effort to live forever," he said. "They're called Horcruxes. We think that there are seven of them. The Horcruxes are the reason that he didn't stay dead when he was killed all those years ago. Because of them, his soul floated in a limbo until it could be attached to another body. If we destroy all of them, himself included, then he'll stay dead."

"Oh," Hermione softly said. "That is very dark magic. I can't believe that someone would actually do that! Let alone survive the process!"

"You're sure?" Harry asked not quite sure what to make of the information.

Ron nodded. "You've already destroyed one of them – the Diary that had possessed Ginny back in second year."

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered. He remembered the diary very well and just how dangerous that thing was. Just thinking that Voldemort had made seven of those things! What a fucking mess indeed.

"That's putting it lightly," Ron replied. "Lara's been looking for them and has a list of possibilities."

"And Ollivander might be protecting one?" Harry asked still trying to understand what the hell was going on.

"There's a chance." Ron twirled the wand again in his fingers. Harry watched him as he contemplated his next words. "In one week Ollivander will be gone and our chances of finding out even slimmer. We think it might be Rowena's wand cause You Know Who likes to pick things that once belonged to the Founders. What better place then to hide the wand then with the wand maker?"

Harry was silent holding back his questions as he knew that there was more coming.

"But you don't know for sure?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head no.

Harry honestly had no idea what to say.

This was insane. Fucking ruddy insane.

"Merlin Ron," Harry muttered. "You're really contemplating killing Ollivander. How can you be sure about anything? It just sounds bonkers?"

"I'm sure," Ron repeated.

Harry gave him a hard look.

"Fuck Harry – the things that that man did was horrible. Our current future is horrible unless we do something to change it," Ron replied rather forcefully. "Yes, I'm sure. Ollivander experimented on wizards, Muggles, demons...anyone he could get a hold of. He practically ran one of Voldemort's death camps so yes I'm sure that he needs to be put down."

Harry and Hermione were both silent at Ron's proclamation. Neither quite sure what to make of his words. Ron was probably the palest that Harry had ever seen him, his freckles standing out harshly against his skin. From just looking at him, Harry could tell how much this knowledge was eating away at Ron.

Harry felt his stomach flip and not in a good way. The situation with Voldemort had always been bad, but if sounded like it was about to get a hell of a lot worse. No wonder Lara – Faith – was involved. There was a chance that the entire human race was screwed due to Voldemort's delusions of grandeur.

"Believe me, I know how bad this is," Ron finally said. "Why do you think I'm trying to prepare you? We can't afford to lose."

His last comment was almost a whisper.

It boiled down to whether or not Harry trusted Ron. Well, wasn't Harry just pondering his trust for Ron over the pansies not even ten minutes ago? Didn't Harry already decide that the next time he and Ron had a conversation, he was going to trust what his friend had to say.

"Can we really go after him?" Harry asked causing Ron to jerk in surprise. "I mean we've fought Death Eater's before but Ollivander has always put me off – not to mention that if he is a demon. . .Aren't demons hard to kill?"

"It'll be hard," Ron replied a smile crossing his face. "But Lara, Hermione and I have started a plan of attack. Ollivander won't be expecting an attack and that's a big advantage for us. Not to mention that Lara will be joining us and she does kill demons for a living." Ron's smile faltered. "Look Harry, I'm going to be honest – if we can't get you a second wand, I don't think that you'll be able to help with this mission."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but let it fall shut. Ron was right. The Ministry of Magic had already gone after him for casting the Patronus charm last year which meant that they would be all over him the instant his wand registered casting more spells outside of Hogwarts. Not to mention that he would be attacking Ollivander and how the hell would they be able to convince the Ministry that Ollivander was evil? Harry had a hard time believing it himself.

Harry sighed. "I still want to come with."

"I know," Ron replied. "And, I think we're going to need you there anyway. We might have to risk the ministry involvement."

Harry looked at him but Ron was not returning his gaze. In fact, Ron seemed to be looking anywhere except at Harry.

Ron ran his teeth over his lip before he slowly continued. "You have the ability to recognize the Horcruxes."

The last bit was quiet as if Ron really didn't want to tell Harry that. It took a minute for Harry to register what Ron had said to him. Horcruxes? As in the objects that contain Voldemort's soul?

"What do you mean by that?" his words came out slowly as his mouth seemed strangely heavy.

Harry really didn't want to hear the answer. Whatever it was, he had a feeling that it was going to be bad. The gnawing in his stomach got worse and Ron hadn't even explained himself yet.

"I don't know why," Ron answered. "But we think it's because of your connection with him. For some reason you're able to recognize the pieces of his soul for what they are. Remember how the diary seemed to call to you?"

Harry slowly nodded in confirmation.

Ron muttered a few curse words and dug into his pocket. Carefully, he removed a locket that seemed very familiar to Harry.

"Didn't we find that while cleaning Grimmauld place last summer?" he asked unsure why Ron would have brought it here. Harry reached for it but Ron pulled the locket away from his grasp. Harry couldn't hold back the annoyance that appeared on his face.

"Yeah," Ron said holding it up to the light. Harry reached for it again only to have pull it further away. "And don't you remember what you had said when you had pulled it out of that drawer. You had wanted to clean it up and save it. You had even set it on the dresser to save. Kreacher had taken it but you had thought that mum tossed it with the rest of the junk."

"I remember," Harry said drawing his hand back to himself.

"Remember how angry you were at the thought that Molly had tossed it," Hermione said.

Harry frowned. He did remember being irrationally angry. Actually, if he had remembered correctly, he had even yelled at Mrs. Weasley for doing it. That had been one of the few times that she had actually grounded him. Harry swallowed deeply, he really didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Is that..." Harry couldn't even finish his question.

He didn't need to either as it seemed that Ron knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yeah," was all that Ron replied.

"When I found it," Harry said unable to turn his eyes away from the cursed object. "It was like something in that room was calling to me. It was like, I knew it was there. It was different from the diary though. With the diary I just felt drawn to it."

"It's probably different with all of the objects," Ron said. "Look Harry, I don't think we'll be able to figure out if the Horcrux is even there without your help. Even now, I can only tell what it is by touching it."

"So, I guess we'll have to figure out a way for me to get a wand."

"Yeah," Ron replied and shoved the locket back into his pocket.

Harry's heart fluttered a bit at the loss of the locket and that worried Harry far more then he wanted to admit. Merlin what else could be so messed up in his already messed up life? Now this? Harry ran a hand through his hair.

A hand grasped his arm and gave him a small squeeze. Harry looked up to see Hermione giving him a reassuring smile. Despite himself, he smiled back; grateful to have friends that are willing to stick by him.

"Lara and I want to attack Wednesday night," Ron said.

Harry frowned, it was currently Monday. "You mean in two days?"

Ron nodded.

"I don't think that I'll be able to convince mum to let you spend the night so we might have to break you out of here," Ron replied. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head. There was a loud pop as his shoulder cracked into place. "I'll stop by the shop were we got the wands and see if I can convince the owner to a night visit. We might be able to get you a wand before we leave for the attack."

"What about me?" Harry asked. "I think the Order might realize if I'm gone for most of the night."

"Polyjuice," answered Hermione. "We know of a place where we can buy it and we've already talked over a plan with Lara. Now all Ron and I have to do is convince one of the twins to sit in for you for the night."

"They could say no?" Harry thought out loud.

"Maybe," Ron sighed. "Ginny might work as well but then she'd probably demand to know what's going on. We have a better chance at Fred and George being tight lipped. And besides, if you're the one asking, how can they say no? After all, you are their investor and they do kind of owe you."

"We're going to need some sort of disguise," Harry said.

"Don't worry, that'll be taken care of."

"How am I going to get a hold of the twins?" Harry asked. "Again same problem as before – I can't leave."

"What's the Dursley's phone number?" Ron asked. "I'll take them to Muggle London and teach them how to use the pay phone."

Harry gave Ron an odd look, if he remembered correctly, the last time Ron had used a phone it was a disaster. Harry wrote the number on a spare piece of parchment that he was doing summer assignments on and handed it to Ron. His disbelief clearing showing on his face but Ron ignored it.

"Once we get things ironed out with the twins, I'll give you a time to be ready,"

"You guys will be able to figure a way to get me out of here?" Harry asked.

"Well, we did figure out a way to get inside so I think that it won't be a problem," Hermione answered standing up. "I think it's about time to go. We do not want to push our luck by staying for much longer."

Harry stood up as well and looked both of his friends over. Determination showing on both of their faces despite that the odds stacked against them.

"The silencing ward will disappear once I leave," Ron said and motioned for Hermione to come near. "Just hold on tight."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Apparating out of here," Ron smiled. "It's funny, your place is so well protected from wizards entering who wish to do you harm that there isn't even an Anti-Apparition ward around the house. Any wizard trying to enter who wanted to harm would be bounced out by the protective shield."

"Really?" Hermione asked taking Ron's hand. "I didn't know that."

Harry didn't know that either.

Instead though, he asked. "Can you teach us how to Apparate?"

"Um, yeah but I think we're supposed to take lessons this year so it actually might be better to learn from them. It took me a long time to get the hang of it so I'm probably not the best one teaching."

Hermione laughed.

Harry smiled.

Ron smiled back. It seemed like the first genuine smile he had seen on Ron's face since this entire mess started.

"I'll call," Ron said and in a crack he and Hermione disappeared. Seconds later, Harry could feel the rush of magic as the silencing ward fell.

Harry collapsed down onto his bed, the conversation fresh in his mind and stayed that way for the rest of the night. By the time dark had fallen hours later, Harry still hadn't moved. Not even for supper – in fact he didn't even realize that he was hungry for it. His mind wouldn't quiet down, especially after all that had been said that night. When he closed his eyes for bed, a single thought coursed through his mind. Perhaps the connection between him a Voldemort was bigger then even he realized. Things were not looking up for Harry. In fact, Harry had a very bad feeling that things were even worse then Ron made them out to be.

-oOo-

_"Anyone ever tell you that you're fucking crazy," Ron glanced to his right to where Roxy walked besides him. Her voice was low but he didn't have a problem hearing her._

_ "All the bleeding time," he replied._

_ "Quiet guys," Willow said from his other side. "We might have gotten in here just fine, but there's no telling what will happen next."_

_ Ron didn't bother replying to her saying that he knew that. Instead he just walked a little faster so that he was now in front leading the pack. The concrete floor beneath his feet echoed through the halls. There was no point in hiding the noise from their footsteps, after all they were pretending to belong here. Ron tugged on his left sleeve of his black SAWC robe. The sleeves only came to the elbow in order to display the dark mark on the forearm. He really fucking hated that cursed thing but at the same time was grateful that he wore it._

_ "Stop," Willow said abruptly. "She's here."_

_ Willow looked around before letting her eyes settle on a single door._

_ "Behind that one."_

_ "Is there anyone else in there?" Ron asked._

_ Willow's gaze looked unfocused and Ron knew that she was trying to read the magical signatures of those inside the room. She understood magic in ways that he wouldn't ever comprehend._

_ "Two others," she whispered. "One human - the other not so much."_

_ "Is it Ollivander?" he directed his question at Willow who was already shaking her head._

_ "I don't know," she said. "But considering where we are, my guess is yes."_

_ Ron swallowed. Ollivander's presence would make the mission more difficult. He really wished he had brought Hermione along as well, but they couldn't afford the time to pull her out of the mission she was currently on. Even with the other Order teams in the building, he would feel a lot more confident if she was here. But Ron couldn't wait a few more weeks for her to return. _

_ The Order had wanted to bring down Ollivander's lab ever since word reached their ears that it existed. The whispers about the lab were horrifying. Experiments done on all types of life - Muggle, wizard and demon. The Order was starting to see what the lab was developing first hand as it appear in the world: poisons fed into water streams that killed Muggles instantly to new wards that blended demon blood and magic that were a bitch to break though. Even worse was the new rumor that Ollivander had started to experiment on slayers._

_ If the Order could destroy the lab, then the slayer project along with so many others would have a major setback. Years of Ollivander's research would be lost, some of it never to be recovered. Unfortunately, it wasn't just an easy operation of finding the lab and destroying it. The lab was under a Fidelius charm. Unless they could get Ollivander himself to leak the information they were not going to find it by conventional matters._

_ The Order would have to find another way._

_ The plan had been so risky that the first slayer they asked to participate undercover flat out refused. In fact all of them that had been ordered to go undercover refused. If there was any chance for them to succeed then it would have to be Faith herself going undercover._

_ While Willow could not locate the lab, she could design a spell to track a person no matter where they were. If they could ensure that the slayer Ollivander caught would be taken to the lab, then they could find said lab. The stronger the slayer was, the better chance that she would be moved to the lab as soon as possible. Faith really had been the perfect choice._

_ The plan was so unbelievable dangerous that Ron couldn't blame the slayers for turning it down. Fuck, when Faith said that she'd do it he almost tried talking her out of it. But the payoff would be worth it._

_ There were five teams composed of three Order members each participating in the raid. They were spread out in the complex of buildings, looking for labs and setting explosives along the way. Ron didn't think he could trust anyone but himself to lead the team that was going after Faith. _

_ Ron made sure his long blond hair was secured tightly. He was disguised to look like Marcus Bolt (a member of SAWC) that they had caught a few days ago that had often been seen in Ollivander's company. Marcus had been on a mission and was due to be back today with his report for Ollivander. The Order was very lucky to come across him._

_ "Sarah will go after Ollivander when I give the signal," Ron ordered using the code names of who they were disguised as. Willow currently was dressed as SAWC member Sarah Lower (Marcus's partner who was killed while the two of them were being apprehended). "Amber, take down the wizard who is also inside."_

_ Roxy was disguised as Amber Dres, a witch that had been constantly seen in the company of Ollivander. Unfortunately, the Order hadn't been able to catch a third wizard of Ollivander's entourage so they had had to make do. Marcus had informed them that Amber was out on a mission to be due back in three days; she had seemed like a good candidate for the third disguise._

_ "I'll go after the target. Once I have her, portkey out."_

_ Roxy nodded and waved her fake wand. It was enchanted to cast only one spell - a shield. This shield would hold up against approximately twenty-six spells before dissipating or one hour, whichever came first. The wand held ten of these spells. They would hold up to everything except the killing curse. It wasn't useful for Ron though considering any spell he cast inside of the shield would be contained as well. But Roxy would be able to get close which was all that the slayer would need._

_ "Good as dead," Roxy answered tapping the short sword that was strapped to her thigh._

_ Willow entered first with Ron following in her wake. Ron's eyes quickly took in those in the room as they turned to greet them. Ollivander and Amber Dres stared back at him. Of all the fucking luck - there went their chance of an ambush. _

_ The first attack came instantly from Ollivander. Willow caught the bright orange spell and directed it back at the demon. Ron shielded as Amber cast something yellow and sickly looking at them. Roxy side stepped Ron's shield and rushed at her counterpart. _

_ Ron ran to the room as well, his attention focused on the man standing at the head of the large gray examination table. His eyes flickered down, briefly confirming that Faith was strapped to it. He didn't spare but a glance at the dark slayer though as he needed to be focused on Ollivander._

_ The man smiled at him._

_ It was not a kind smile._

_ "That was a rather unfortunate circumstance on your part to have Amber already here," he said._

_ Ron didn't speak, there was nothing to say to the man._

_ Willow acted first, she shot bright blue lightening in one hand while she made some sort of complicated symbols in the other. Ron ducked as Ollivander directed the lightening at him, using Willow's same trick from before. With his other hand, Ollivander used his wand to fire a killing curse at Willow. Willow ducked and used magic to propel herself forward. She sped towards Ollivander in a burst. Ron fired a series of spells at the half demon making him concentrate on him for a split second. Ollivander dispelled Ron's cutting hex with a wave of his hand and threw a pink curse at him making Ron leap to the side._

_ He then turned to Willow who was only feet away and still rushing towards him. He clapped his hands together causing Willow to fly high up into the air. Ron took the opportunity to fire a killing curse of his own at the man. Ollivander had to turn his attention away from Willow as he used a tray full of instruments to block the curse. Syringes and scapulas scattered to the ground with a metallic clang. The green spell bounced off of the metal and to the left crashing into the wall. By now, Willow had safely landed onto the ground behind Ollivander._

_ She held a knife in her hand and stabbed diving it deep into Ollivander's shoulder._

_ Ron knew that the knife wouldn't due much good as the demon part of the man would heal the wound up almost instantly._

_ But what happened next wasn't what Ron expected._

_ Ollivander disappeared._

_ He looked at Willow who smiled back at him._

_ "What happened?" Roxy asked as she wiped the blood off of her sword onto the cloak she wore. Behind Roxy, Ron could see the bloody lump of her counterpart._

_ "I changed the knife into a one way portkey," Willow said turning her attention to the table. "Ollivander should have landed somewhere in the Arctic by now. I figured that since we don't have much time we needed to get him out of here and fast. He won't be able to Apparate back inside due to the wards and he won't be able to portkey back in due to the wards…..Shit."_

_ The last word was directed to the examining table._

_ Ron finally let his eyes settle on Faith._

_ Her eyes were closed and she was connected to a series of tubes. They snaked in and out of veins. She was in bad shape. Her head had been shaved and there was a thin scar on her scalp. A clear sign that Ollivander had operated on her. She was completely naked and her skin was a waxy white. There was a nasty looking burn scar on her shoulder that hadn't been there before._

_ Ron looked away and swallowed. Some of the tubes lead into a clear plastic medical bag that was collecting blood. The tube though that was connected to her right arm was pumping something into Faith. Ron could only guess at what the substance was._

_ "Can you get her out?" he asked Willow, his voice hard as he turned back to her._

_ Willow had already put her hands on Faith's chest before he had even spoke the question. The tubes disappeared._

_ Ron grabbed the blood and unhooked it from the stand that held the bag. He did the same thing for the second bag. Whatever liquid it contained was a milky cream color. He gently shoved them into the pockets of his robe._

_ "Amber," he commanded. "Look through the drawers for any research journals that Ollivander might have kept. We want to leave nothing behind."_

_ Roxy nodded._

_ Ron stuck a portkey on one of the large filling cabinets in the corner and activated it. It disappeared, sent back to the Order's headquarters for study._

_ "Sarah," Ron said as he continued to portkey the rest of the cabinets to the Order. "You can erase Faith's DNA from here….right?"_

_ "Yeah," Willow responded already knowing what Ron wanted her to do. "But we need to analyze her blood and I want to know what they were injecting her with. It'll be destroyed too if it's here."_

_ Willow pulled a sharpie out of her pocket and drew directly onto the metal table. He watched her draw the symbols that were needed to cast the spell. Once done, she yanked a piece of Faith's hair from her scalp. If Ron remembered correctly, the spell would destroy all of Faith's DNA in a kilometer distance._

_ "Found something," Roxy said holding up the small black book for him to see. Her head snapped towards the doorway. "Someone's coming. Fast."_

_ "Go," Ron commanded and watched as Roxy activated her portkey and disappeared._

_ "Devon," Ron spoke into his communicator to one of the other teams that he knew were in the building. "What's your status?"_

_ "We found another lab and are portkeying various texts out now. We're also taking samples with."_

_ "Anyone notice you're in the building yet."_

_ "Negative," he answered._

_ "Get as much as you can then then Fiendfyre the place down at the first hint of discovery. Relay the message to the others. We're casting ours now. They should be too busy dealing with our mess that they won't notice you until it's too late."_

_ "Fiendfyre," Ron cast and watched as a little flame appeared. It started harmlessly devouring the wall opposite of them not letting on that it would soon be a fearsome creature._

_ "Go and take her with you," Willow said to him. "I'll activate the spell once you've left. I'll follow right behind."_

_ Ron didn't reply and instead lifted Faith into his arms. He noted how light she was as he activated his portkey._

_ He managed to stay upright as he came out of the travel. Running inside the warded headquarters, he could see Roxy ahead of him. She had already taken off her necklace. Her white blonde hair stood out sharply lit in the night sky._

_ "Bill!" he yelled as soon as he had entered the house._

_ "In the infirmary getting things ready," Roxy replied as he rushed past her. The infirmary was on the first floor and had once been a bedroom. He ran past fellow Order members and almost tripped on his own feet as he entered the room. Giles stood next to Bill, his head in the black book that had belonged to Ollivander._

_ "Table," Bill said but Ron was already gently laying her down._

_ "Will she be okay?" Ron said letting just how worried he was finally show. He backed away and leaned against a wall in order to give Bill the room he needed._

_ "I don't know," Bill answered waving his wand over Faith._

_ Ron felt numb. _

The numbness was still settled in his chest when awoke from his memories.

He blinked at the enclosing darkness and tried desperately to get his breathing under control. His frantic gasps accompanied the crickets chirping from various hiding places in his room. Once he didn't think he was going to hyperventilate anymore, he slowly sat up.

It had been a long time since he had last thought, let alone dreamt about that night. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and ran a hand over his face. Standing up, he made his way over to his side dresser and opened it. He pushed passed his socks and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. His hand still trembled slightly as he gripped the bottle.

Ron had hardly touched it since the twins had nicked it for him two years ago.

Opening it, he drank straight out of the bottle.

It stung as it went down his throat as it was not mixed with anything to dull the alcohol.

Sticking his head out of his door, he listened to see if anyone else was awake. He heard nothing and quietly started his way down the halls and towards the stairs. Making sure he avoided the ones that creaked, he silently continued until he was standing on the front porch.

The night was still warm but the breeze was slightly cool on his skin. Ron looked down to realize that in his numbness he hadn't even bothered to throw on a shirt. His eyes wandered to his left forearm to where the dark mark was. Still covered in the fake skin, he frowned and considered just how much it would hurt to cut it out.

Fuck, the cursed thing would probably just bleeding grow back.

After all, it was supposed to bind him to the Dark Lord forever.

He took a large swig of the fire whiskey and sat down in the field grass.

Setting the bottle beside him, he laid back and stared up at the stars. The moon was almost full tonight and bright in the sky.

A sound to his right - footsteps and breaking stocks of field grass, made him reach for his wand only to realize that he had left it on his dresser. Smart move there.

"Ron," Hermione's voice lightly called.

He debated answering her but decided that she would eventually see him due to the moonlight.

"Here," he answered sitting up so she could see him in the tall grass.

She lit her wand and it illuminated her face.

At least she was smart enough to bring it.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked making her way to him.

Ron absently took another swig of the bottle and let his eyes take her in. She wore a simple pair of polka-doted shorts, the colors indistinguishable due to the night (but Ron knew they were blue and gold from seeing her in them earlier) and a white tank-top. Her hair was messy from sleep practically sticking every which way.

Merlin she was gorgeous. He was instantly brought back to a few days ago when he practically ravished her in the field. Turning away, he took another pull. They still hadn't talked about that, not with all the commotion about Ollivander.

Fucking Ollivander.

He had almost killed Faith. It had taken awhile and a lot of special potions along with a pensive in order to make her alright in the head again. It took years until she acted alright again. Hell, every once in a while she still has a freak out moment.

Fucking Ollivander and his fucking experiments.

Ron had refused to read his journal, letting Giles dictate the important details to him. Just thinking about it now made him sick to his stomach causing Ron to take a long swig from the bottle.

"Are you drinking?" Hermione asked sitting next to him.

Ron didn't answer and instead handed her the bottle.

She tentatively took it and lifted it to her nose. He watched as she took a sniff and pulled her head back. Staring at it for a few seconds she must have made up her mind as she tilted it to her lips and took a small sip.

She coughed violently as she handed him back the bottle.

"That stuff is rank," she commented wiping her mouth. She probably spit half of what she drank back up.

Ron let out a small chuckle and took a very large gulp of it. He used the back of his hand to wipe off whatever didn't make into his mouth.

Setting the bottle back onto the ground, he laid back down and looped his arms behind his head. He could already feel the bit he did drink come into effect. Embarrassing, he was such a light weight now. Not that he drank a lot in the future but alcohol was one of those things that proceeded to be produced in mass quantity. He laughed humorously to himself thinking about the absurdity of it, but hell, everyone liked to drink humans and demons alike. From the corner of his eye, he could see as Hermione picked up the bottle and took another sip. This time though, she managed not to cough half of it back up.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked laying down next to him and setting the bottle back on the grass.

"Thinking," he replied.

"About what?"

"About how fucked up my life has become," he answered. That seemed like a good general summary of the direction of his thoughts. "Do you like the firewhiskey?"

"It's okay…I guess," she answered. "I had some of my dad's whiskey before so I had assumed it would be a bit more like that."

She reached for the bottle and Ron watched as she propped herself up and took another sip.

Hermione then set the bottle down and turned her eyes up to the night sky.

Ron tore his eyes away and looked back to the stars as well.

"It's okay, you know," Hermione said after a few minutes. "The kiss I mean."

"What?" Ron asked in surprise and sat back up.

She stayed where she was on the ground but turned her eyes towards him.

"You can do it again," she tentatively replied. "If you ever want to."

She was so quiet that Ron was sure if he had heard her right.

"I didn't mean to push it that far," he said after a few moments of studying her face. "I just…I just…. I've just wanted to be with you for a long time now and I miss you and I forgot that you might not be ready."

Hermione studied him and he realized that his response wasn't very conventional - and sort of rambled.

Ron pressed his lips together and reached for the bottle that she had set down on the other side of her. He took a sip and watched as she sat back up. Hermione grabbed the bottle before he could put it back down and took another sip. This time she did cough a bit.

"It's okay," she said.

She set the bottle back down and out of his reach. Ron watched as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and even in the moonlight could see the determined look that came across her face.

She moved quickly and within seconds, she was inches away from his face.

His mouth seemed oddly dry.

He felt her hand incase the top of his own and her breath was on his check.

Seconds later, her mouth was on his. The kiss was light and tentative.

Ron kissed her back, but he made sure not to forget himself this time.

They soon found themselves laying in the grass. Hermione's weight off to the side and slightly on him. His skin tingled where she ran her fingers against his chest.

They stayed like that for hours. He let Hermione get used to kissing him, to touching him. She intertwined her fingers into his hair and nibbled on his neck. She ran her lips all over his chest and her hands up his thighs.

Ron had missed her so much.

It wasn't until the sky was lighting that she finally pulled away. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks flushed.

"We should go inside," Ron finally said knowing that she was thinking the same thing. "Before Mum starts on breakfast and sees us sneaking back in with a half empty bottle of firewhiskey."

"Yeah," she replied running her hand up and across his chest. "We um….we can do this again….Right?"

Ron smiled and leaned forward pressing a very passionate kiss to her lips.

"You're never going to get rid of me," he said still very close to her face.

"Good."


	18. Ollivander

**IMPORTANT A/N:** Just a heads up - I am renaming this fic. Starting with the next update it will be called **Beacon**. Enjoy the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter. They belong to Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling.

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**Mein Teil**

Chapter 17: Ollivander

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Ron lightly tapped his fingers on his stomach as he lay in bed waiting for the sounds of the Burrow to die down. His room was dark with only the moon providing any light. He propped himself up against his head board and reached for his wand. His legs hurt from the angle he had been laying; in all honesty he was much too big for his single bed. He was finally at the point where his feet stuck out over the edge unless he situated himself just right. Maybe tomorrow night he could try an expanding spell on it? The only problem with those though was that they weren't meant to last long term and would need to be recast after a few days. Ron sighed as he wished that his family could afford to buy him something bigger. He supposed though he should at least be happy that he had a bed to sleep on and that he wasn't forced to share with one of his brothers or something as equally awful.

He tapped his wand to the lamp on his bedside table activating the _on_ function. Tonight was a big night; he was finally going after Ollivander. The anticipation had been building up all day making him a little jittery and queasy. He wasn't the only one acting off either; Hermione wasn't doing that great of a job hiding her nervousness. Earlier today, she had been going over cleaning charms with his mum and had accidentally broke at least half of the dishes with an incorrect wand movement. Needless to say, Hermione had stopped helping out in the kitchen after that and had went outside to find Ginny in the garden.

Ron resisted the urge to groan as he rubbed his legs. Sitting did not help him feel any better, instead he felt like he was going to sick up. He blamed his uncharacteristic behavior on his newfound youth. His fifteen-year-old self wasn't able to handle the pressure. Merlin he hated feeling like this, it was about to drive him bonkers. After all, he had planned much larger, more dangerous missions plenty of times before. Why did all of his knowledge and years of experience decide to leave him now?

There wasn't even a logical reason for him to be this nervous. Everything had gone as planned. He and Hermione hadn't had any problems in convincing his mum that they should do some of their school shopping early this year and that Harry should come along with them. They had met up with Fred and George just fine. All it took was a bit of illegally purchased Polyjuice Potion, and now Fred was now spending some time with the Dursleys so Harry could join the activities tonight.

Simple really.

All that was left was for Faith to take to Harry to Knockturn Alley to get a second wand and even that should have had gone down without a hitch. Ron had even left a little incentive with the shop owner to make sure that he would be open for Harry's purchases.

Ron took a quick look at the time to see it was a little after eleven. Harry should have his knew wand by now.

It was also about time for him and Hermione to be on their way.

His parent's voices finally quieted down. Hopefully, they won't for some unknown reason stop by either of their rooms to check on them. Ron didn't think his mum would - but mum's sometimes do strange things. He pushed himself off of the bed and padded across the room to his closet.

As he pulled his dark washed jeans on he heard the click of his bedroom door opening. Buttoning his fly, he turned around to see Hermione quietly shut the door behind her. She held her new wand in her hand.

"Where did you put my cloths?" she asked currently wearing her standard polka dotted sleepwear. They had decided to stash them in his room for easy access.

"They're in the bottom dresser drawer," Ron said turning to his closet to look for the dark gray tee he wanted to wear. He was still in his Chudley Cannons' nightshirt - and that certainly wouldn't work for the night's activities.

Ron shucked off his shirt and tossed it in the direction of the bed. He was accurately aware of her gaze boring holes into his back. His cheeks threatened to blush at Hermione's blatant staring. He would never consider himself shy, but at fifteen and scrawny he wasn't one to show himself off. Ron quickly pulled the sought after shirt off of the top shelf and over his head.

He frowned as it looked like it might have a few wrinkles. At least it wasn't stained.

"I'm changing, don't turn around," Hermione said followed by his wooden dresser drawer shrieking as it closed.

"Let me know when you're done." Ron couldn't help but take a quick look over his shoulder. Hermione had her back to him letting him catch a glimpse of her smooth skin. She was in the process of pulling a black tank top over her head. Ron let his eyes linger on her back for a few seconds before looking away.

While they might actually be in a relationship now (at least he hoped they were), he didn't want to push his luck.

"Done," Hermione said.

He turned back around to see that a pair of dark jeans completed her outfit. She was currently engrossed in fastening her wand holster to her arm reminding Ron that his own was sitting on top of his other dresser. Ron grabbed it and plopped down on the bed. Cursing himself, he realized that he had forgot to tell Faith to make sure to get one for Harry.

His stomach somersaulted again. _Merlin's balls,_ not this again. He refused to get worried when he knew that everything was going to go just fine.

"Are you ready?" he asked fastening his own to his arm.

"Yes," she replied despite the slight wavering in her voice.

Ron reached out his hand for her to take it. Once her hand was in his, he gave it what he considered a reassuring squeeze and a small smile.

Hermione smiled back indicating that she was ready. Seconds later, Ron cast a silencing spell and Apparated them away.

They arrived in Fred and George's sitting room with a telltale crack. Hermione stumbled as they landed making her latch onto his arm and almost took the both of them down in the process.

"Now Hermione," came George's voice, "don't go taking advantage of my little brother."

Ron shot George a glare as Hermione abruptly dropped his arm and regained her footing.

Faith's laughter filled the room. Ron looked over to see her sitting over on the couch next to Harry. She was wearing the glamour necklace making her look like Angelina Jolie. Faith had told him the other night that she had a plan for the rest of them concerning their disguises but wouldn't say what. She insisted on it being a surprise. Harry looked very much like himself wearing a pair of green cargo pants and a black shirt. The Polyjuice Potion that Harry had taken earlier in the night to pass as Fred had worn out. Strapped to his arm, Ron could see what looked like a new wand.

Ron smiled; Faith actually got him an arm holster as well.

"Have you had a chance to try it out yet?" Ron asked Harry as he grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and sat down.

"A little yeah," Harry replied. "It fits almost as nicely as the my other wand. Still a bit strange though - "

There was a loud creaking noise making Ron turn around and miss the rest of what Harry was saying. As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone else in the house. Ron grinned widely. Out of the bathroom stepped Audrey Hepburn - not the real Audrey but he knew exactly who was underneath that glamour.

It was Willow.

Audrey was one of her favorite people to be disguised as.

"_Oh thank Merlin_," the sigh escaped from his mouth before he could stop himself. He was relieved to see her. In all honesty, he didn't think that Faith would have been able to convince her to help out. Oh sure, Ron might have been able to take down some of the security wards around Ollivander's place but subtly dismantling wards was not his forte. He was much more of a blast it to shreds and charge in type of guy - subtle wasn't exactly the way he did things.

"Um, who are you?" Hermione voice interrupted his thoughts. "Like Lara over there, I highly doubt that you are who you look like you are."

"Ah," Willow began shyly. "I'm here to help. I guess you can just call me Audrey."

"She the one who fixed me," Ron said after Hermione gave him a glance. "Put me right in the head."

"You're from the Council too, right?" Hermione continued.

"Yes," she replied. Hermione waited for her to continue but after a few seconds it was clear that Willow wasn't going elaborate anymore.

"Audrey's going to dismantle the wards," Ron said. He could see George out of the corner of his eye trying not to look too interested in what they were saying. Ron hadn't explained what they were going to be up to tonight only that they needed the twins help. As far as Ron was concerned, the less the twins knew, the better. George however, was no slouch in intelligence and Ron wouldn't be surprised that if the news got out of Ollivander's kidnapping, he might put two and two together.

"Don't bother trying to get anymore out of these sexy vixens Hermione," George said with a smile that was supposed to ease sex appeal. "I've been trying all night to get a Floo number and have been fantastically shot down every time. As to how my little brother, of all people, could score such lovely ladies as these, I am at a loss."

"Shove off George," Ron replied.

"Awe, don't be like that," Faith said and patted George on the leg. "It's no fault of yours that your brother just has some serious skills."

Ron felt his face redden.

"Stop teasing him," Willow said walking further into the room. "We really need to get going anyway."

Willow reached into her pocket and pulled out strings of gold.

"Harry already has his but these are for you two," she handed them to Ron. He realized right away what they were and almost kissed her. Instead he settled for giving her a rather large hug. He could feel her surprise as she awkwardly patted him on the back.

"Let's go," he replied pulling away.

"Look," George said. "I know you're not going to tell me what the hell is going on here, but I highly doubt that it's on the legal side. I can tell that much just by the look in the hot brunette's eyes."

"Don't worry," Faith leered. "I'll keep the kiddies safe."

"You better," George answered.

Ron led the way to the back door and to the stairway that continued down into the alleyway next to the shop. He could hear the others following after him.

The night was still warm and Ron was glad that he decided on the shorter sleeve shirt. Once Hermione was out with him in the alleyway, he passed her the necklace. She looked at him questionably but took it from him anyway.

"It's a glamour," Ron told her. "Like the one that Lara's wearing. The spell is difficult to cast off us because it is attached to the necklace itself and we are not the ones anchoring it. The glamour is actually imbedded into the necklace. Ingenious really."

Hermione slipped it around her neck. A few seconds later, the air lightly shimmered around her and when she had once been now stood someone else. Ron smiled as he readily recognized her from. Faith must have picked people that they had originally glamoured as.

"Well," Hermione asked twirling around in a circle. "How do I look?"

"Fantastic," he replied.

Bending over, Hermione picked up a discarded bottle and transfigured it into a mirror.

"Oh I love her," she said smiling at the face staring back.

"I had a feeling that Julie Andrews would suite you well," Faith replied taking up the rear as she followed Harry and Willow down the stairs.

Ron put his own glamour around his neck wondering whom Faith would have picked for him. After all, they all had a fairly large repertoire of people they had disguised as in the future. The gold fell against his neck and a moment later, he felt the shimmer of magic wash over him.

Hermione's eyes roamed over his new look and she smiled. He grabbed the mirror from her to take a look. Ron grinned as he ran a hand through his hair only to see it go over a bald head. It was strange being able to feel his hair but not see it. Leave it to Faith to pick one of his favorite forms.

"Just call me John McClane," he said. "Who are you Harry?"

Harry draped his own around his neck and soon stood in his place very young looking Harrison Ford - wearing a pair of glasses. Hmm, they have to do something about the fact that the glasses could give him away.

Hermione laughed from besides him obviously recognizing the character.

"Well, it's certainly better then Luke Skywalker," she said handing Harry the mirror.

Harry smiled. "Of course, Han Solo was always the far superior one in the trilogy. I used to sneak down the stairs and watch through the banister when Dudley had the films on. Loved'em I did."

"Julie, Han," Faith called, "John, lets go. We have a Death Eater's ass to kick."

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her along as he ran to catch up to Faith. With Hermione and Harry wearing their old glamour's, it was almost easy to pretend he was back in his home time. While Hermione seemed surprised by the sudden movement, she only slightly stumbled as jogged along besides him. From behind, he could hear Willow and Harry's footsteps against the cobble alleyway.

The short trek to Ollivander's was done in silence. Ron had dropped Hermione's hand as soon as they caught up with Faith. He would have like to continue to hold onto her, but they hadn't really had a chance to discuss what they were, and not to mention that they haven't told anyone else yet. It wasn't that he was nervous to say anything to Harry (Faith wouldn't give a shit and would probably pull Hermione aside to give her sex advice) but now was not a good time to even approach on the subject.

Instead, he focused his attention to the slayer walking slightly in front of him and rallied his mind to the task at hand. He knew that Faith had some murderous feelings when it came to Ollivander. Ollivander had done some horrible things to her, so horrible that some of it she had practically begged to have it erased from her memories. Ron wasn't sure what to expect with her tonight. Ollivander would be relatively caught unaware of the magnitude of the situation and it might be too much for Faith to resist. They needed Ollivander alive and not brain damaged.

His nerves started churning again and he wished that he had talked with Faith about this earlier.

The streets were relatively deserted despite the nice night. The few other witches and wizards that they passed eyed them wearily. Ron ignored their glances. After all, the Daily Prophet had just announced Voldemort's return and everyone was being suspicious of people they didn't know.

Faith came to a stop causing Ron to almost crash into her. Hopefully, she didn't notice.

"We're here," Faith mumbled.

"We have a few onlookers," Ron replied nodding to the old wizard who was watching the group from the tavern across the street.

"It's just the old man across the street and the couple over there on a stroll," Harry said drawing Ron's attention to the couple walking a few blocks ahead of them. Harry scrunched his face in disgust at the way the two lovers were cooing at each other. From the looks of it, they were both very drunk and a stampeding herd of hippogriffs wouldn't even faze them.

Ron turned his attention back to the old man who was now also looking at the young couple. With a subtle wave of his wand, the man's drink slipped out of his hand and onto his lap. The man sputtered a few curses that were inaudible from where Ron stood as he floundered around for his wand. He forcefully ripped it out of his pocket and waved it in a rather sloppily motion mostly likely casing a drying spell. A few loud curse words later, he was up on his feet and heading back inside the bar.

"It doesn't look like it's very busy in there," Ron said. "We probably only have a few minutes before he comes back out."

"I can give us more time," Willow said. "Follow me."

They followed Willow as she moved closer. Ron glanced up at Ollivander's flat that was situated above his shop. Wouldn't it just muck things up if Ollivander were currently awake and looking out the window right now?

"This should be fine," Willow said holding up her hand. She turned around and looked at the streets surrounding them. With the loving couple long gone and the old man now refilling his drink, it appeared that they were well alone in the night. She waved both of her hands a muttered something under her breathe. The air flickered in front of them.

Hermione let in a sharp intake of breath.

"What did you just do?" she asked.

"Illusion spell," Willow answered turning back to the wand shop. "Anyone who looks in this direction will only see the building."

Hermione's mouth fell open as she gaped at Willow.

"But that's…. that's…." Hermione looked at Ron with a loss for words. It didn't surprise him either. Willow just cast a complex illusion spell without the use of a wand and with barely a wave of her hand. Hermione tried again, "How?"

Willow smiled at the girl.

"I mean, the sheer amount of energy to cast something like that is astronomical," Hermione said. "And not to mention that you didn't even use your wand. That makes it so much more difficult. You either have a huge magical core or you're channeling directly from the earth. Either way is dangerous. Where did you go to school? You're American right? Did - "

"Hermione, stop," Ron interjected then realized he called her by the incorrect name. "You can ask her your questions later. Audrey is a unique witch and let's just leave it at that for now."

Hermione frowned but huffed in compliance.

"How long will you need for the wards?" Faith asked.

"I'll let you know when I'm done," Willow replied. "I need some quiet."

Willow relaxed her stance. Even though she was glamoured, Ron could still see that her eyes went completely white as she began her work.

A hand brushed his and Ron turned to see Hermione brimming with more questions.

"What exactly is she doing?" she whispered. Harry moved closer to them to hear his response.

"Ollivander has complex security wards around his shop and flat above. While we can physically break in without any problems, he would be instantly alerted to our presence," Ron quietly replied. "Audrey is creating a door for us so we can get inside without him noticing."

"You're sure he's in there?" Harry asked.

"Let's hope," Ron answered.

"Audrey has been inconspicuously watching the place all day," Faith interjected. "He returned from dinner and hasn't left since."

"Good," Harry replied. "If he's as awful as you say he is, then I'm guessing we'll only get one chance at this."

Harry was right about that. Ron had a feeling that if they fucked this up there wouldn't be a second chance. They would have numbers on Ollivander but they still needed all of the help that they could get.

He turned to Hermione and Harry.

"I'm going to cast a spell that will help us see in the dark. If for some reason he does turn on the lights, just make sure to Finite Incantatem yourself. Bright lights can hurt like bloody hell."

He cast the spell first on Harry and Hermione before doing himself as well. Dawn had once told him that the spell had the same effect as Muggle night vision goggles. Faith would have no need for such a spell and Ron didn't think he should disturb Willow's concentration quite yet.

"This is bloody amazing," Harry said. "Merlin, I wish you knew how to do this years ago. It would have made sneaking around Hogwarts so much easier."

"Harry," Hermione scolded.

"Just think about how much easier it would have been to avoid Flinch."

Ron turned his attention back to Willow and Faith.

"You sure you're going to be okay doing this?" he asked Faith.

She grunted in response.

"That's not an answer."

"Don't worry," she said after a moment of thought. "I'm not going to kill him, not yet anyway. I know we need him for information."

Ron nodded.

"I'm done," Willow said. "I've also shielded the building so he can't Apparate out."

"John will lead and I want Audrey behind him," Faith said, voice hard. Harry and Hermione snapped to attention but Faith continued to address Willow. "Be on the look out for any other wards or traps inside. Other then that I want you to stay out of the actual fight. I have a feeling that he'll be throwing a lot of magic at your shields when he's not concentrating on us, so make sure he doesn't break them. The last thing we need is his fucking Death Eater friends or the Aurors showing up. If we need you otherwise, you'll know."

Willow nodded.

Ron and Faith had decided that between the two of them, Harry, and Hermione - they should be able to obtain Ollivander without having to take out the _Willow Weapon of Mass Destruction_ as Faith had tenderly put it.

"Alright, let's do this." Faith pressed her lips together and pulled the katana that was strapped to her back. Ron frowned wishing that he knew how to make her one of the wand shielding devices. Unfortunately that had never been his specialty.

"Come here," he said to her and tugged on her arm. She turned around and frowned at him. He tapped his wand on her wrist and muttered a shielding spell. While it wasn't as durable and certainly not as practical, at least it was something. "It'll only last one spell before the shield fails."

"Thanks," she said.

Ron pushed her aside and knelt down to take a look at the lock.

"Alohomora," he whispered and felt his magic surge into the keyhole. He tired the handle only to see that it didn't budge.

"Here," Faith said and held something out to him. He grabbed the black velvet and opened it to see lock-picking tools. Figures, it would have been too easy if a simple Alohomora would do the trick. Ollivander must have put some sort of anti-spell charm on his lock making it so direct unlocking spells were ineffective. It was common of him to do and Ron and Faith had gone up against this method plenty of times. Bill had come up with a method of infusing Muggle lock picking with magic that was almost always successful.

Within seconds the lock opened with a barely audible click.

Ron led the way inside.

Light filtering in from the windows created looming shadows. He could hear the light tap of footsteps on the hardwood floors follow in after him.

"Audrey," he whispered once they were all inside. "Can you sense Ollivander's signature?"

"How did you…" he had a sense that Willow was shaking her head at him in disbelief. "Never mind, just give me a minute."

Ron didn't look over his shoulder at her, but he didn't have to for him to know what was happening.

"I sense someone upstairs," she whispered.

"Do you sense any other wards inside the house?" Faith asked.

"Just the protective wards around the outside," she mumbled. "Wait . . . there's one over in the back of the shop on the floor. My guess is that there's a staircase to a basement there."

"Ollivander first, basement second if we have time," Faith replied.

Ron took a step forward before deciding against it. Perhaps a little reassurance to Harry and Hermione would be a good thing right now.

"Hey mates," he whispered to them. "Remember that he isn't human. Okay? And not to mention a Death Eater. Keep that in mind while fighting."

He could see them nod yes in the lightened darkness.

Ron was struck with once again how well Harry and Hermione were dealing with this. He had at last expected a few difficult questions but there hadn't been any. They must have come to some sort of decision concerning how to handle the situation when he wasn't paying attention. He didn't think that they would keep the silent obedience for long though.

Ron led the way past the front counter and into the shelves of wands. He wasn't sure where he was going but he knew that the staircase up to the second level was in the back somewhere. It was fairly easy to find and Ron thanked the night vision eyes for that. The door was locked making Ron have to pick this one in the same manner as the front.

The hinges creaked as he slowly pushed the old wooden door open.

"Wait here for us," he whispered to Willow.

Beyond the door was a short hallway and a staircase leading up to Ollivander's personal residence. Ron started forward, his senses on high alert. He treaded as lightly as he could across the hard wood floor. The walls were faded and water stained. In the distorted light, they looked like they were bleeding.

The staircase was steep and narrow. He started moving up paying close attention not to trip. Wouldn't that just be great, they took care in dismantling the wards only to alert Ollivander to their presence by falling and causing a ruckus on the stairs.

Ron could see another door in front of him. He still had the lock-picking tools in hand. Crouching down, he began on the third lock of the night. The small click as the lock gave away wouldn't be heard, but the loud creak of a floorboard behind him would.

He whipped his head around to see Hermione frozen as she tried not to make any more noise. A look of horror was on her face as she had also realized that she could have very well given away the fact that they were here. Ron turned his focus back on the door. From the gap underneath, he could see that the lights were still out. That didn't mean that Ollivander hadn't heard them though. It was times like this that Ron really wished there was a spell that allowed him to see through walls. Maybe he could ask Willow if she could look into it? It would be right useful.

Ron muttered a spell that amplified his hearing and pressed his ear to the door. He wasn't sure how much good it would do but it was better than nothing. He could hear the breathing of his companions clearly from behind him. He could also hear scratching of claws as something went about moving around in the wall, a rat no doubt. What he couldn't hear was an increase in noise from in the room indicating that they had been discovered. Ron cancelled the spell and let out the breath that he had been holding. He slipped the tools into his back pocket

After waiting another minute, he slowly pushed the door open and was rewarded this time by silent hinges.

The door opened into a living room

Moonlight filtered in through the curtains that hung on the wall overlooking Diagon Alley. Ron could see that the living room was lined with books. He was sure that Hermione would have a field day in here if it weren't for the dire circumstances.

Ron weaved his way around the sparse furniture, a love seat and a large chair with a coffee table between them. He could see the kitchen beyond and to his right a hallway. Ron hadn't ever been up here before but he would bet that the hallway lead to Ollivander's bedroom.

He held his wand ready as he turned the corner to the hall.

Ron barely stopped himself as he almost ran head long into a figure before him.

Ollivander.

"Hello there," he said in that unearthly voice that always frayed Ron's nerves. Hermione crashed into Ron's back as she was unable to stop her forward momentum. Ron forcefully pushed her away and jumped back along as he brought his wand up. "I must say, I am surprised that anyone was able to break through my wards."

Ron flicked his wrist effectively cutting off whatever Ollivander would have said next. He didn't even bother with saying the spell. No need to give Ollivander any indication on what Ron was attacking with.

Ollivander held up his hand and the spell reflected off his shield. He was only a few feet in front of Ron and Ron had to drop to the floor so the spell fallout wouldn't hit. He felt the magic of a shield spring up to life behind him. Good thing that someone was paying attention. If he had to guess, he would bet it was Hermione.

Ron rolled to the side; just in time too as a bright orange spell scorched the floor that he had just inhabited. He could smell the burnt wood from where the spell hit.

"Reducto," Harry's voice called out from behind. Harry's spell crashed into Ollivander causing him to get thrown down back into the short hallway. He crashed into a decorative table that collapsed under the force of his impact. Glass shattered from the vase of flowers that sat on top.

A second spell from Ollivander followed quickly after as if the Reducto and the crash into the table didn't affect him in the slightest. Harry barely had enough time to move out of the way from the black smoke that billowed out from Ollivander's wand.

Harry let out a yelp as the smoke massed into a large beast like shape and snarled in his face. He barely conjured a shield in time as one of the large limbs came crashing down on him. The impact caused Harry to flinch from the sheer strength pressing against his shield.

Hermione shouted something from where she was pressed against the wall. Fire lashed out from her wand before being sucked into the dark creature. The creature snarled and turned around directing its attention on her. Harry shuffled away as quickly as he could and back to his feet.

"John," Faith's voice called out Ron's alias for the night. "Go after Ollivander. We'll catch up."

Ron nodded; he was the only one who could feasibly get into the hallway. He peaked his head around the corner to see that the hall was empty. With one last look at the inky creature that was now distracted once again by Harry, Ron dashed into the hall.

Ollivander was not in sight but it was fairly obvious as to where he disappeared. From behind him, he could hear Hermione shouting another spell but he didn't dare look back to see what it was. Instead, he crouched low and focused on the open door a little down the hall to his right. He frowned as he realized that there was a closed door directly across for it.

Great, Ron had a fifty-fifty chance on which room Ollivander had disappeared into. His instincts were telling him the open door and they had served him right on more occasions then he cared to think about. He dropped completely to the ground and sent a blinding flash of white light into the room. His instincts appeared to be right on as he heard a startled cry. Not a second later, the wall above him exploded. If he had been standing, no doubt he would have been caught in the spell.

Ron shot forward into the room. While the flash spell was over, Ollivander still had a hand in front of his face. No incantation was needed for the spell that shot from Ron's wand. The orange light struck Ollivander with such a force that it sent him flying into the window behind him. It spider webbed as Ollivander slid down onto the floor.

The still blinded Ollivander flicked his wrist not aiming in any particular direction. Ron dropped to the floor again as his spell went out in all directions slicing like a knife through the air. Pictures cracked on the wall behind him as the force slammed into the walls.

Ollivander still hadn't moved from his spot slumped against the window but that didn't make him any less dangerous. He sent a second blast of energy off in all directions, but this time was lower. Ron only had time to conjure a barely formed shield before it slammed into him. It sent him flying into a dresser with a large crack. A lamp crashed onto his head spreading ceramic everywhere. He paid it no mind though as he crawled onto his knees. Inadvertently, his hand clutched his left side that had taken the brunt of Ollivander's last spell. There was already blood soaking into his shirt.

He shoot another spell at Ollivander only to have the man flick his wand and send the spell sailing off to his left. Not even seconds after, Ron felt the buzz of a spell sail past him from behind. This one though, barreled into Ollivander.

Ron held his breath for a moment as the man slumped into himself. Blood soaked through Ollivander's pale night robe alarmingly fast. At that moment, Ron wished that he could finish the man off.

Ron turned his head. Hermione was standing in the open doorway with her wand still outstretched. He could see that it was slightly shaking.

"Julie," Ron called to her but she didn't hear him or didn't register that that was her code name. Her attention was still focused on the man bleeding in front of her. She looked like she might pass out. Her breath was coming out in shallow gasps. Ron called louder the second time. "Julie!"

Her head snapped to his direction. Even with her glamour, her hair was sticking up all over the place. She had what looked like scorch marks decorating the left half of her face.

"You okay?" Ron asked.

She nodded.

Harry came up behind her. He had a nasty looking gash on his forehead and his glasses were broken and askew. His eyes briefly went to Ollivander before moving on to Ron who was slowly coming to his feet.

Ron tried not to wince as he got up.

"Merlin mate," Harry pushed Hermione out of the way and rushed to his side. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine," he replied but didn't push his friend away as he staggered to his feet.

Hermione seemed to come out of her stupor and rushed to his other side.

Faith followed in the doorway. She stepped over the wall debris and over to Ollivander.

"He won't be unconscious for long and unfortunately he heals fast," she said not looking away. Ron had a feeling that she was holding herself back from killing him right then and now. Instead, she settled for giving him a hard kick to his abdomen. After another moment she continued. "We have to get him back for questioning."

"Wh…. where to?" Hermione stammered.

"I have a place hold him," Faith replied.

"Then what?" Hermione asked.

"It's probably best for you not to ask that question," Faith answered.

Hermione flinched besides Ron but didn't say anything else.


End file.
